Noah’s elbow bounces off him.
Noah backs off a step, and the gunner charges, blade first, at Noah.
At the last possible millisecond, Noah falls to the side.
The knife imbeds into the back of the pilot with such force that it goes right through his body. Blood spurts from entry and exits point of blade.
Without hesitation, Noah sends a hammer punch to the head of the gunner. The devastating crack to the jaw drops his enemy unconscious.
The helicopter starts shaking and rocking, twisting and falling from five hundred feet in the air.
Noah looks outside to see that the Eurocopter is alighting on the ground.
Sifu Wang jumps out and waves his arms at Noah.
You got to be kidding.
But the martial arts master is not.
“Jump, Noah! Jump!”
No chance to think. Noah jumps.
At the same time, the Sikorsky comes plummeting toward the ground—and Noah is directly in its path.
“Spread your body out, Noah!” screams Sifu.
With zero time to think or reason, Noah spreads his arms and legs out wide. It’s not much, but the air resistance increases just a little, and Noah slows just a bit.
This is crazy. In mid-descent, Noah turns his head to see the firebird gaining on him. He starts to pull his limbs back toward his body.
“No! Keep them spread out!” calls the voice from below.
There is a time when training trumps reason, and this is one of those times.
Reason tells Noah that there is no way he is going to get out of this and he will be burned to a crisp. His only chance of survival is to tuck himself like a ball, hope that he can survive the fiery maelstrom that will appear when he and the chopper hit the ground.
Training tells him to do what Sifu Wang commands, even if contrary to what he thinks is correct. Sifu Wang is JJ’s father. Noah would trust JJ under any circumstance—and he will do the same for JJ’s dad.
Turning his head back to the ground, Noah stretches his arms and legs as far as he can away from his torso. Again, his body slows down a fraction.
But that’s not on Noah’s mind. He cannot believe his eyes. Rather than running away from the direction where he and the chopper will hit the ground, Sifu Wang is running directly at where the epicenter of the explosion will occur.
“Go away!” screams Noah, but it is to no avail.
Noah is thirty feet above ground, and the Sikorsky is at thirty-seven feet. In less than a second—oblivion.
Sifu Wang leaps harder and higher than he ever has in his life.
In midair, the Shaolin grandmaster grabs Noah and head butts him, knocking the young foundation president out.
The Sikorsky continues its rapid, tortured descent to Hell.
Olivia and Mrs. Wang stare in absolute horror.
By coming in at a different angle, Sifu Wang was able to push Noah and himself slightly out of the direct path of the spinning bird but nowhere near far enough away to prevent disaster.
Sifu Wang and Noah hit ground, and a millisecond later, just eight feet away, the Sikorsky crashes to the ground.
There is a huge explosion. Shrapnel and pieces of metal fly into the air and then rain down. A wall of fire shoots out. Flames lick at the feet of Olivia, Mrs. Wang and Henry.
The trio tries to approach, but there is no way to avoid all the searing pieces of metal. Parts of their scalps catch fire, and exposed parts of their arms burn from the superheated fragments of helicopter. Little holes appear in their clothes where the shrapnel has torn or burned through.
They have to back away, or they too will be consumed by the conflagration.
Olivia, Mrs. Wang and Henry watch helplessly. They can’t see through the wall of fire and hope and pray that their loved ones can survive.
But they know that some prayers cannot be answered.
The carcinogenic black smoke of death arises, forming a mushroom cloud—a smaller version of what happened during WWII on the Japanese cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
There is nothing the helpless, agonized trio can do but wait.
What a way to spend a honeymoon.
***
The fire rages for ten minutes, but it is almost half an hour before it is cool enough for the survivors to approach the wreckage.
Fighting the sting of smoke in their eyes, the three step through the smoldering ash to the carnage.
They pass the burned-out hull of the Sikorsky. Looking inside, the bodies of the pilot and gunner are charred beyond recognition.
A few steps away where there should be two bodies, there is only one unidentifiable rounded hump—either Sifu Wang or Noah was completely incinerated.
“Noah,” whimpers Olivia. “Noah? Noah?”
“Let’s see who it is, Olivia,” says Henry.
The helicopter pilot turns the charred remains, and a sight that stupefies the imagination is there. The reason there is a hump is because Sifu Wang draped himself over Noah, protecting him from the fire’s rampage. Noah’s body is singed, but he's completely intact. It’s a small mercy—Noah must have died from smoke inhalation.
Both Olivia and Mrs. Wang drop to their knees besides their dead husbands. Grief overcomes the two of them.
Henry gets his bottle of water and pours it on his handkerchief. Sifu Wang’s body is completely charred, but at least he can wipe the soot of Noah’s face.
Olivia takes the piece of cloth from Henry and begins wiping. The fabric quickly dirties. “Henry, more water please.”
Henry steps back to Olivia but trips on a little hole hidden by the charred debris. The bottle drops, hitting Noah on the face.
Then… a miracle.
Noah’s face twitches.
“He’s alive. He’s alive!” gasps Olivia.
She sits his body up and pulls him to her chest.
Henry picks up the water bottle and drizzles the fluid of life on Noah’s face.
“Noah, wake up. Wake up, Noah.”
Noah’s eyes groggily open, and he sees three concerned faces staring at him.
He gurgles to Olivia, “Did you miss me?”
Olivia grabs the water bottle from Henry and pours the rest of it onto Noah’s head. “Don’t you ever do that to me again.”
“I promise. Over my dead body.”
Completely, completely insensitive to Mrs. Wang’s grieving of her dead husband, this gallows humor allows all just to breathe a moment and assess the situation.
There are no answers, but there is still a task to complete
“We must find Master Wu,” says Noah as he kneels beside Sifu Wang’s body. “The warriors must join each other in eternity.”
***
Heaven has become a monument of terror. Full of haunting, full of horror. Human skulls, bones and fragments of bone are scattered throughout the ruins of buildings… a reminder of the tragedy.
Mrs. Wang, Noah, Olivia and Henry wander through Heaven’s estate, sifting through the rubble, searching.
“Don’t you want to stay with your husband?” asks Olivia.
“No, he would want me to be useful. JJ would want me to help.”
For Noah and Olivia, this is a much needed cathartic time. They’ve had their feelings bottled for so long; it’s a stream-of-consciousness outpouring. How much JJ and Abby meant. How JJ had saved Noah, had become his best friend in battling Chin’s children. How Abby and Olivia dreamed of musical success since they were kids… How Heaven is not the nirvana that they had hoped.
Noah points at some of the fragments of the murals, artifacts and weapons. “This is the home of Shaolin hung gar, the Tiger and Crane martial arts and associated schools. This is where Master Wu spent more than twenty years.”
“Before coming to Hong Kong and meeting my dad?”
“Yeah. And this is where JJ learned his chops. I asked him if he wanted to stay and rebuild the monastery, but he said no. His time as a monk was over… Probably wishes he had stayed.�
��
“Abby was his first, you know,” says Olivia.
“First what?” asks Mrs. Wang innocently.
An uncomfortable glance from Olivia’s direction answers the mother’s question wordlessly.
Mrs. Wang’s face reddens. “Never mind.”
“Is there anything women don’t talk about with each other?” Noah grimaces. “What did you tell her about me?”
“That you were strong, funny, handsome… ”
“You’re a great liar,” snickers Noah.
“You’re not the only ex-lawyer on this mountain, Noah.”
A sensitive moment arises when Mrs. Wang discovers that JJ may have accepted Christianity before he died, or at the very least, was seriously exploring it.
“He abandoned the Chinese Way because of a girl?” asks Mrs. Wang with disbelief. “To take the Way of the Fish?”
“I don’t really know. Religion was about the only topic that Abby and I never discussed too much. All she told JJ was that she wanted to get married in a church, so JJ made his own journey of exploration,” says Olivia.
“So he was willing to marry in a Christian church?”
“Yes. We had talked of a double wedding.”
The three wander to where the courtyard used to be. Every step a reminder of what once was but can never be again. Along with human remains are the articles of war—spears, swords and daggers. An epic battle that was fought here just a few short weeks ago.
Then Noah sees what he is looking for—a familiar insignia embroidered into the top of a gray satin martial arts jacket. The Chinese character Wu. This skeleton wearing the jacket is the remains of Noah’s mentor, Master Wu.
***
Half an hour later, the four gather at Heaven’s cemetery. Generations of monks have lived and died in this place. Not all of them lasted. Not all could take the strict discipline. Not all could accept a life of chastity.
JJ, Master Wu and Sifu Wang were among those that left. They all had an itch that could not be cured by the austerity and sincerity of a life of meditation and martial arts.
But they have all come back to say goodbye and have their souls blessed to wherever the journey has taken them.
“You do it, Noah,” says Mrs. Wang.
“But you are the elder.”
Mrs. Wang shakes her head. “Noah, you are the only one of us who knows the Way of the Fish and the Chinese Way.”
***
If there is a God, He’s got to be here somewhere. Who else could create this majestic, magnificent, awe-inspiring mountain where a multi-faith memorial service is being held? It’s a celebration of life and of a better tomorrow.
A cynic might say this group was hedging their bets; a fundamentalist of any religion might say this was heresy in the extreme. A regular Buddhist service might have hours of chanting. A Christian service would have hymns and homilies. Noah has never conducted any funeral service of any kind, so he’s nervous—he wants to be honoring but respectful to the religious backgrounds of all.
The urns of JJ and Abby are placed beside the skeleton of Master Wu and the body of Sifu Wang.
Noah, Olivia, Henry and Mrs. Wang bow three bows in front of the deceased.
Noah looks over the mountainside and lifts his hands up. “Master Wu is here somewhere. His body is everywhere here. Thank you for who you were. Thank you for who you are.”
The three step to the body of Sifu Wang.
“Just as the rivers fill the seas, what we offer we give to you. Whatever you wished or wanted, may you receive it and receive it quickly. Sifu Wang, may your next life be filled with joy and happiness.”
Mrs. Wang opens JJ’s urn and pours the ash between his father and Master Wu.
Olivia opens Abby’s urn and mixes her ashes in with JJ’s.
Noah looks to the ash, then to the sky, and then offers:
“The river flows into the ocean; the water is never the same. Life and death, joy and sorrow, good and evil are all part of a timeless unity. It never began, and it never ends.”
Noah looks at Mrs. Wang, Olivia and Henry, who all nod in approval.
Noah closes his eyes and prays, “Dear God. You’ve taken away our loved ones, and we commit them to You. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Thanks for the time that we had with them. We know that with You, they’re in a better place than we are. In Jesus’s name. Amen.”
A mountain wind blows, scattering JJ’s and Abby’s ashes into the air, beyond the confines of Heaven and to the ends of the earth. In the not-too-distant future, the elements will assure that the remains of Master Wu and Sifu Wang will join them.
***
All of their duties to their friends and forefathers have been fulfilled. But instead of peace, there is increased tension on the helicopter.
Why was the chopper ambushed? Did someone know that Noah and Olivia were onboard? If so, how did they find out?
Or could somebody possibly be after the Wangs? They have nothing of material consequence and have stayed low on the proverbial radar throughout their lives.
The thought of a terrorist attack arises. Unnatural as this may seem, there is no better way for a terrorist to make an impact than an incursion into an assumed protective sanctity. Or to randomly slaughter an innocent.
While there are no answers, there is one surety:
The future has begun today.
Chapter 11
Tuesday Morning—Oregon
She’s got me hooked. I’m acting like a thirteen-year-old with her first crush. Grow up. You’re a state senator, Sandy.
As she walks to the gambling subcommittee’s meeting room, Sandy’s conservative dress belies her inner anxiety, excitement and tumultuous thoughts as she replays the previous evening’s nocturnal lustfest in her mind. While she’s had hundreds of sexual encounters over the years, nothing ever really ever satisfied her. Not because the sex wasn’t good. Physicality was not an issue, but it wasn’t enough because her partners never really measured up. Strippers, lawyers, secretaries, teachers… even a couple of politicians or their aides. Decent people every one of them.
But none of them dangerous. None of them with zing.
Until Prez. Here was someone whom she could never tame, someone who was using her, someone who looked down on her… but someone she could be useful to.
Someone she wanted to be useful to. She had never felt like this in her life, and she hated it… and loved it.
Prez said she wanted Sandy to get the subcommittee to approve her application to be part of the management of the Coyote River Casino—for a percentage of the profits. That was entirely doable—nobody but nobody wanted to see a Native American casino go down, and other than Prez, there weren’t any takers.
But Sandy feels that even if she pulls this off, that wouldn’t be enough to ensure that Prez felt so indebted to Sandy for what she had done that she would never leave. Sandy wants a hammer, one that she could hold over Prez to manipulate and control her permanently.
And then an idea. It’s so outrageous that it might just work.
There’s one thing Sandy knows for sure, though—she needs a tsunami if she’s gonna makes waves with Prez.
And that’s what she’s ready to launch. There’s a smile on her face as she enters the committee chambers.
***
Chief can’t believe his eyes. It’s half an hour before the tribal council starts, and Melva is standing outside the door, waiting to get in.
“It’s about time you got here. I been waiting fifteen minutes,” snaps Melva.
“I’m early, and if I had known you were going to be too, I would have called for a celebration,” says Chief as he unlocks the door.
“You’re gonna want to throw a party after I tell you the news,” says Melva as she brings in a couple of thermoses of coffee plus the fixings into the room. “I got the answers to our problem. We don’t need to give up control, and we can get out of the casino business altogether.”
“You win a lo
ttery or something?”
“The Chad Huang Foundation.”
Chief shrugs. “Never heard of it. Name sounds Chinese. What do they have to do with us?”
“That’s because they don’t want nobody to know about it, and it sounds Chinese because it was named after a Chinese guy, but it’s run by a white guy, and they will be interested in us because they are interested in kids.”
“Melva, you been drinking again?” asks Chief with a low soft tone. “You’re rambling and talking nonsense.”
“I never stopped drinking. That was you. I’m rambling because I’m excited. I got a call from Kathy last night.”
“The Russian ‘scholar.’” Chief rolls his eyes.
“There’s nothing wrong with Russian. She’s normal. She did the most non-Indian thing she could think of.”
“Who’s gonna hire an Indian who speaks Russian?”
“That’s what I’m driving at, Chief. The Chad Huang Foundation hired Kathy as a Russian youth worker for ‘Abby’s House.’ It’s kind of like a halfway house for rescued young girls. Guys smuggle them here and then turn them into hookers. Russian and Chinese girls mainly. It’s being funded by the Chad Huang Foundation. I thought we should try to get in touch with them.”
“We’re not Russian, we’re not Chinese and there aren’t any prostitutes around—or at least if there are, they’re hiding from me.”
Melva gasps with exasperation. “Don’t you get it, Chief? Let’s turn the casino and hotel into a home, a halfway house, whatever you want to call it for our kids. You know we got a ton of youth problems. They all want to go to the big city. Eugene, Springfield, Portland, Salem, and they’re all getting themselves into a ton of trouble. We need the Chad Huang Foundation here.”
“You really have been drinking, Melva.”
“You and me, we don’t want the casino, but we didn’t have no choice, no alternative until now. What’s the harm in giving them a call?”
RITUAL SACRIFICE: The Ultimate Alpha Female & Political Corruption on the West Coast (Noah Reid Action Suspense Thriller Series Book 5) Page 8