She opened her wall safe to retrieve her Beretta Compact. More modestly sized than a regular Beretta automatic handgun, the Compact fit her hand though it still carried thirteen bullets in the clip and one in the chamber. She jammed the gun into the compression holster at the back of the coat then slipped the garment on, fastening the overlapping front panels with reinforced zippers.
She opened the front-flap pockets of the coat to find a shuang dao sheathed under each flap. Jason knew she favored the long single-bladed knives. Each looked like a pirate’s cutlass with a hollowed round grip used for spinning the blades.
Wrapping a long, red silk scarf around her neck, she let the ends of the fabric drape down her front. She glanced in the mirror and found her outfit to be unexpectedly chic. Her lips lifted into a smile at the thought she might set a new fashion trend.
Chapter 21
Bai stepped out of her building and walked down the front steps to the sidewalk. Street lamps shed pools of light along the damp, dark asphalt. A predawn quiet encompassed the street. She turned and came face-to-face with two Sun Yee On soldiers. Their implacable expressions lent them a stern demeanor.
“I’m going to work. I don’t need an escort,” she informed them.
“We have our orders,” the larger of them replied with a deferential bow.
She considered arguing with them but realized the effort would be wasted. They took their orders from Jason. “Fine,” she relented with as much grace as she could muster. “Stay back a half block and give me some space.”
She patted her coat to show she wore protection. They nodded in unenthusiastic acceptance of her condition and stood aside to let her pass.
Two all-night coffee vendors plied their trade between her home and her office. Always rooting for the underdog, she chose the one that wasn’t a franchise to buy coffee for herself and her escorts. They gratefully accepted her peace offering and seemed to become more comfortable in her presence.
“What are your names?” she asked.
The big one replied, “I’m Bo, and this is Song.”
They both stood over six feet tall and weighed in excess of 250 pounds each. As a courtesy, Bai exchanged cell phone numbers with them, promising to let them know in advance of her movements.
“If you’d care to follow me, gentlemen, my office is only a few blocks from here.”
Exiting the coffee shop, she sipped the bitter brew as she strolled toward her office while enjoying the warmth of the cup held between her hands. A heavy mist haloed the street lamps and softened the harsh outlines of the city. The damp air smelled of ocean. She found herself smiling as she walked, the solitude of the slumbering city providing a serene comfort.
She reached her office and went upstairs to flip the lights on. Her bodyguards remained outside. The room appeared undisturbed. Her laptop rested on her desk with the lid still open. The papers sitting next to the computer were just as she’d left them. She looked around the empty room and suddenly missed Lee with an unexpected emotional wrenching that verged on physical pain.
Taking a deep breath and swallowing her anxiety, she took a seat in her office chair and turned on her PC to watch the DVD of Wen Liu’s killer. She sipped slowly from her cup and watched the digital pictures through tear-filled eyes while fighting to put her emotions back in the box.
Nothing that might have provided a clue to the assassin’s identity jumped out at her as she watched. The second time through was the same, as was the third and the fourth. On her fifth viewing, she saw something she hadn’t noticed before. As the killer raised his gun outside Wen Liu’s doorway, for a brief instant, something peeked from beneath the jacket on his extended arm.
She played the scene over and over again, pausing the recording as she worked to pick out the details of the object. The grainy pictures strained her eyes and blurred her vision. The more she looked at the brief glimpse in the video, the more convinced she became that she was looking at the head of a snake. But she couldn’t be sure.
She sat back in her chair. From Chen’s reaction, she felt sure he knew Wen’s killer. Unfortunately, the head of a snake, or whatever the object was on the killer’s wrist, wouldn’t provide her with the killer’s identity. Her efforts had come to nothing.
She pulled her cell phone from her pocket to check the time. The display read nearly five in the morning. By six, the sidewalks would start to crowd with day-shift workers. Trucks would rumble through the streets to make their rounds, filling the shelves and bellies of the metropolis. She wanted to visit Lee before the city stirred and spilled its inhabitants into the streets.
Her bodyguards waited patiently for her outside her office building. They stood on the sidewalk drinking coffee and smoking in an unsuccessful attempt to look inconspicuous.
“Smoking will kill you,” she said to them.
Song flicked his butt into the street. “Anything happens to you,” he grumbled, “Jason will kill us. And that,” he said while exhaling with a wry grin, “isn’t just blowing smoke.”
“Your concern is duly noted,” she replied. “As a special favor to you, I’ll try not to get killed. Do you have a car?”
Bo nodded and turned to walk down the sidewalk to a black SUV parked in a red zone. When he brought the vehicle forward, Song opened the rear door for her then took a seat up front next to Bo.
“Take me to San Francisco General Hospital, please,” she said.
Bo put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb. The trip took about ten minutes on the nearly empty streets. When they arrived, Bo stayed with the car while Song escorted her into the hospital. She turned to him when they reached the intensive care unit on the fifth floor. “You can wait here, or you can go for coffee. I’ll be a while. I plan to spend some time with my friend.”
He nodded and turned to stand with his back to the wall next to the door while she walked through the threshold that employed a negative air system to repel germs. On the other side of the door was a small room with scrub sinks, gowns, and masks. She stopped to wash her hands and put on a face mask.
As she walked through the second door to enter the ward, she noticed a physician in a white lab coat standing next to Lee’s bed. Lee lay on his back with his eyes closed. With his back to her, the physician reached into his pocket to extract a syringe. He lifted the hypodermic to test the plunger. Bai noticed a tattoo of a snake’s head peeking out from beneath his white coat. Her reaction was instinctive and swift. She reached for a knife inside her coat cuff and snapped the blade at the man’s back.
The assassin must have sensed her presence. His arm thrust up as he turned to face her. Her blade sliced through the sleeve of his white coat to lodge deeply in his forearm. His hand spasmed and he dropped the syringe. Ignoring the knife sticking out of his arm, he quickly moved toward her. A surgical mask covered the lower half of his face, leaving only the brown, crinkled skin around his glaring eyes to identify him as the tan man.
Meanwhile, two nurses who’d noticed the commotion ran toward them.
Bai reached inside her coat pockets to pull out her butterfly knives and flip them once by their circular grips before holding them up defensively. When he saw the knives, the would-be killer suddenly snatched the knife from his forearm and changed direction. He grabbed one of the frightened nurses by her hair and yanked her head back to expose her throat. The deadly throwing knife rested against the woman’s neck as he turned to face Bai. She could sense the smile beneath the surgical mask.
“Your choice,” he stated, indicating the knives held in her outstretched hands.
“Fine,” she replied in a resigned voice.
She let the knives clatter to the linoleum floor.
His eyes registered triumph.
Unzipping her coat, she reached behind her back to pull out her Beretta and point it at him. “I’d rather shoot you anyway.”
His eyes wildly darting, he looked around the ward. “I’ll kill her.”
Pricking the nurse’s neck, a
trail of blood quickly stained her white uniform. She sobbed hysterically and screamed.
Bai shrugged. “I’ve always found nurses to be officious and bossy.”
“DO YOU THINK I’M KIDDING?!” he shouted.
“Do I look like I’m kidding?” she replied calmly.
He dragged the nurse with him as he started to back away.
In response, Bai pulled back the hammer on her Beretta and in a harsh voice said, “If you take one more step, I will put a bullet in your head. Your demise will be swift and permanent. But,” she said more coolly,” a hospital ward is a poor choice of battlegrounds. If you drop the knife, I’ll let you leave, providing you assure me you won’t hurt anyone on your way out.”
“How do I know I can trust you?”
“If I’d wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead.”
Her words seemed to surprise him. “Who are you?”
“That’s just what I was going to ask you.” She nodded at Lee. “Why are you so intent on killing my friend?” She saw him hesitate for the first time, momentarily unsure. Lowering her gun, she stepped aside to give him a clear path to the door. “Leave my knife at the door as a professional courtesy.”
He seemed to think about her offer as he eyed the door before again turning to meet her gaze. Shoving the nurse aside, he sprinted toward the door. The knife clattered to the floor. Three nurses seemed to materialize out of nowhere to congregate around their hysterical coworker while Bai rushed over to check on Lee. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully. His pulse and respiration registered normal on the monitors.
She pulled her phone from her jacket and dialed. “Bo, there’s a man leaving the hospital in a white doctor’s coat with a bloody left sleeve. If you see him, follow him, but don’t try to stop him.”
“What’s this about?”
“There’s no time, Bo, just do as I ask. If you see a tan man in a white doctor’s coat, follow him. I’ve got Song with me, so I’ve got protection.”
Ending the call, she reached down to pick up the dropped syringe by the edges of the plunger, being careful not to smear any prints. The hypodermic was still full. When she straightened, she noticed Song standing at the foot of the bed. He held her knives.
“You have a wonderful sense of timing,” she told him.
He stared back at her with a confused expression.
After holstering her gun, she took the butterfly knives from Song and placed them in their pocket sheaths. Grabbing a plastic bag off Lee’s nightstand, she placed the syringe in the bag then slipped the whole thing into her pocket. When Song retrieved her throwing knife, she wrapped the blade in Kleenex before dropping it into the same pocket.
No sooner had she finished than three hospital guards charged into the room with their guns drawn. They wore stylish light-blue uniforms with darker trim. Their weapons swung from left to right in wide arcs as they looked for someone to shoot. Seeing that everyone else in the ward either wore a hospital uniform or was hooked to a monitor, they cleverly narrowed down their suspects to Bai and Song.
“The man you’re looking for is wearing a white physician’s coat and has a cut on his left forearm,” she said while pointing in the direction of the exit.
The men looked from her to the group of nurses nearby. The nurses’ prodding gestures proved sufficient to send all three guards scurrying out the door in pursuit of the tan man. Bai hoped they didn’t have the misfortune to catch up with him. She doubted they’d survive the encounter.
“What are your orders?” Song asked, looking sheepish.
“Go back outside, wash your hands, and put on a mask then come back here. You’re going to watch over this patient until I can arrange for private security and a private room. Can you do that?”
“So long as you don’t leave,” he replied. “I go where you go.”
She’d expected as much and nodded in acknowledgment. She took out her phone to make a call. Jason picked up on the second ring.
“Where are you?” she asked.
“I’m sitting at your desk watching the DVD from the Grand. Why?”
“You’re wasting your time. The man who killed Wen is the man in the gray suit with the dark tan that Lee followed. He has a snake head tattooed on his wrist and a hole in his forearm where one of my throwing knives took a bite out of him just five minutes ago. He just ran out of San Francisco General after trying to inject Lee with a hypodermic.”
“Is Lee all right?”
“Yes. And before you ask, I’m fine too. My two shadows are with me. What I need from you is the name of a competent agency to provide around-the-clock protection for Lee. I won’t leave his side until I know he’s safe.”
“I can manage that,” he replied. “Give me about an hour.”
“It’ll take that long to get him moved to a private room and sort out the mess here. I’m sure someone’s going to want to report the assault. I’m going to try to head off any publicity.”
“Understood. Anything else?”
She wanted to ask him why he’d left in the middle of the night, but she didn’t. She’d decided long ago that she’d never cling to a man. The sentiment didn’t leave her any less lonely or any less resentful, but the gesture did leave her pride intact.
“No. Nothing important,” she lied, ending the call in frustration.
Chapter 22
Bai called the phone number on the card Inspector Kelly had given her. The connection rang several times before being answered. “Whaat? Uhhh, who . . . ?” Then the line went silent long enough for her to wonder if she’d been disconnected. A croaky voice finally asked, “Who is this?”
Kelly sounded like someone had kicked him in the gut.
“Sober up, Kelly, and haul yourself down here to San Francisco General. I need your help.”
“Who the hell are you, and why are you telling me what to do?”
“It’s Bai Jiang. If you don’t get down here fast, I’m going to spill the beans on the friend you met yesterday at Figaro’s. He tried to kill Lee. Unless you want this story to go public, get your ass down here and fix this mess.”
“Hold on,” he said. “Let me clear my head and get this straight. You say he tried to kill Lee?”
“Twice.”
“That doesn’t make any friggen sense,” he replied. “Listen, don’t do anything stupid. I’m on my way. Don’t talk to anybody. And fer Christ’s sake, don’t say anything about the man you just mentioned. You got that?”
“I hear you, but make it fast. Your friend hasn’t been subtle in his attempts to kill Lee. This time, he had a lot of witnesses. This mess won’t go away on its own.”
She closed the connection and dropped her phone into her coat pocket. As she looked around, she could see the intensive care unit was starting to fill with concerned doctors and bewildered guards. Nobody seemed to be in charge.
“If you don’t have a mask on, go put one on. If you don’t have a good reason to be in here, get the hell out,” she ordered in a loud voice.
Several people turned around to look at her with stunned expressions before heading for the exit. Song passed them en route from the opposite direction with his surgical mask in place. A man in a white lab coat stepped over to check on Lee while Song took up a position at the foot of the bed to watch. She recognized the doctor as Lee’s surgeon from the night before.
He talked calmly as he fidgeted with the drains and checked Lee’s catheter bag. “I heard there was a ruckus in here.”
“Yes,” she replied. “I’ve called the police. They’re on the way. How is my friend?”
“He’s doing much better. His fever is down, and there’s no blood in his urine. The drains are clear. We should be able to take them out later today.”
“How long before he can be discharged?”
“I’d like to keep him another day or two to make sure there aren’t any more complications or infections. His wounds were deep. He’s going to be in a lot of pain for the next couple of days.”
The doctor looked speculatively from her to Song standing at the foot of the bed with his back to them. “That shouldn’t be a problem. Frankly, I’d be surprised if administration doesn’t insist on it.”
A man in a dark suit, accompanied by a uniformed hospital guard, approached the bed. Both wore surgical masks. The suit spoke but didn’t offer his hand. “My name is Walter Flag. I’m a hospital director. This is our head of security, Captain Saunders.”
A portly man of about sixty with graying temples and manicured nails, Flag wore an expensive suit. Saunders seemed about the same age but taller and leaner. He had somber brown eyes that scrutinized her closely. Their masks concealed their expressions.
Saunders picked up where Flag left off. He spoke in a guarded tone. “We’d like you to explain what happened here. We understand from the nurses a confrontation between you and a gentleman occurred where you brandished knives and a gun.”
“Inspector Kelly of SFPD is on the way. I won’t waste time telling the story twice. I will tell you someone masquerading as a doctor attempted to kill one of your patients. With that in mind, I think it’s probably best to handle this quietly.”
The two men looked at each other as the surgeon quietly slipped away, obviously wanting no part of their problem. Flag spoke to Saunders in a voice pitched loud enough for eavesdroppers who stood nearby to hear. “I’ll leave this in your capable hands, Captain Saunders. If you need me, I’ll be in my office.”
The captain’s eyes hardened. Flag turned on his heel and strutted from the room while Saunders watched him leave with poorly concealed contempt.
“Some days are just like that,” she said in sympathy.
He looked at her in stark appraisal. “Do I need to worry about whether or not this counterfeit doctor is coming back?”
“In a word . . . yes.”
His arms crossed defensively as he looked at Lee and then at Song. The surgical mask made it difficult to determine his disposition, but “unhappy” seemed the most likely candidate.
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