Girl Takes Up Her Sword (18 page)

~~~~~~~

It took the better part of an hour to pack up her clothes and books, the conversation at lunch ringing in her ears the whole time. All of Emily’s bags would fit in the bed of her little pickup easily. But with the dirtbike strapped in back too, some of the bags had to go in the passenger seat. She wanted to be on the road before dark.

All that remained to take down to the truck was her sword. It lay there on the kitchen table, inconspicuous and incongruous at the same time. Maybe no one would give it a second look, not some scuffed up family heirloom. That’s how it seemed to her. But she knew something else concealed itself inside the scabbard, inside the very steel of the blade—the spirit of the warrior. But whose spirit was it? She hardly knew. And yet, there it lay on the cheap formica surface of the table, next to the salt and pepper shakers, as if it were just another utensil, a pot or a colander, or a wooden spoon.

She picked it up, felt it’s weight, and the noise of her friends at lunch finally died down, drowned out by something else.

“Michiko, Michi-san, Michi-sama, Michi-kami,” the familiar voices chanted. What did they expect of her? And what kind of demon do they think she is?

And then the other voice, so much louder, shrilled at her: “The true master uses the sword to take life when she must, and to give life when she should.”

Emily felt faint as the next words formed themselves in her own mouth: “The true master knows no friendship.” A moment later, she found herself on the floor weeping.

“Please, Granny,” she cried out to the voice in her head. “Can’t I have any friends?” She was afraid to hear the answer. None came.

She had taken life when she had to. But the consequences of that act might be pursuing her even now, in the form of these so-called FBI agents haunting her friends around town. Did the Koreans know she killed their agents? Did they think she killed Berea and his men? No, Wendy was probably right. If these people were really with the FBI, if they had a legitimate reason for seeking her, and they didn’t know any other way to find her, they’d have just gone directly to the Principal already and taken her from school.

Two thoughts immediately presented themselves to her mind. They aren’t FBI, or at least they aren’t willing to suffer public scrutiny of whatever they’re up to. Who exactly are they? She’d have to figure that out with Michael and Connie’s help. But it was comforting to think that if they were nefarious, she owed them no special respect or consideration. If they sought her, she could resist as the situation demanded. She craved the moral clarity of this conclusion.

Even more comforting was the realization that they must not know where she lives. At least not yet. Jesse’s cameras hadn’t detected any unusual activity around her apartment. Her handset had not alerted her to anything. It wouldn’t last. If her friends did as she said, they’d have to tell them about her living arrangements. And even if they refused, Amanda certainly would. No, it’s better to leave now, before things get to be dangerous for everyone.

“Going somewhere?” Danny’s mom called from the stoop by the back door.

“Oh. Hi, Mrs. Rincon. Yeah. I think I’ve got to move on.”

“What, you mean you’re leaving before graduation?”

“I’ll be there, don’t worry. It’s just that…” She wasn’t sure how, or even what, to explain.

“Something happened over in Korea, didn’t it? Danny’s been so glum since he got back.”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

It would have been nice to avoid having this conversation, she thought. Mrs. Rincon didn’t need to know the gory details, did she? And what would she think of her, once she had heard them?

“Care to talk about it over a cup of tea?” she asked, tipping her head toward the kitchen.

Sitting in her landlady’s kitchen had always been soothing in the past. Maybe it would still be so.

“I don’t want to stay too long,” she said, pulling a chair from the table. The black and white checkerboard linoleum showed exactly where the cabinets under the counter were square, and where they weren’t. The kettle was slow to boil. “I’d like to be gone before Danny gets back from the dojo. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

“Make
him
uncomfortable, or
you
?”

“Both, I guess.”

“So why are you leaving?” Mrs. Rincon asked, while she poured steaming water into a pair of mugs. “You’re paid up through the end of the summer. Remember?”

“I’m just worried… I don’t want to bring any of my troubles here to your doorstep.”

“Is it about Korea?”

Emily hesitated before answering. It was entirely about what happened in Korea, but only because the same people were involved in what happened there as in all the previous calamities she had endured.

“We had a good time in Seoul… for the most part. But I wanted Danny to see what my life is really like, you know, what it would mean to have someone like me for a girlfriend. I’m not sure he liked what he saw.”

“Why? What did he see?” she asked, a trace of anxious care audible in her voice.

“There was an incident. I went there to protect a friend, sort of. I mean, he’s not really a friend, just someone I met in Kamchatka. But his family was in danger because of me. I don’t know how much of this you really want to hear.”

“I don’t know either. Was it something bad?”

“Yes,” Emily replied. She let that lonely, woeful affirmation sit on the table between them for a few seconds. “The people who were helping us, agents from the Korean intelligence services, well, they kinda turned on us.”

Mrs. Rincon’s face was completely pale and her eyes wide.

“There were guns, they threatened all of us.”

“Was anyone hurt?” she finally asked, in a very shaky voice.

“No… well, yes. The Koreans were, but not Danny or Ethan. Not even Connie—I mean, they shot her in the chest, but she had a vest on.”

“How did you… what happened… what…?” she stammered out, her hands clutching the edge of the table.

“I killed them,” Emily said, spitting the words out like hot coals. “They threatened my friends, threatened to kill us all, and I fought them. Now they’re dead.”

“Oh my God.”

“Now you can see why Danny might be reconsidering his choice of a girlfriend.”

“Oh my God.”

Emily didn’t know what else to say. Maybe she’d already said too much. Mrs. Rincon looked like she would not fully comprehend what she’d just heard for a while. The chair scraped across the floor as Emily stood up to leave.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put him in so much danger.”

Mrs. Rincon stared at her, speechless. Emily braced herself for a mother’s righteous wrath. She knew how well she deserved it.

“Oh, no, sweetheart. Don’t apologize. You did what you had to do, to protect a friend, and then you had to protect my son. He’s safe.” She stopped to take a breath. “Thank you for taking care of him.”

Emily hesitated a moment, unsure whether she should run out the door or stand frozen on the spot until Mrs. Rincon had a chance to reconsider her sentiments. She had endangered her son, maybe needlessly. At least, that’s what Connie kept telling her. And just because he wasn’t shot or stabbed, that doesn’t mean he’s all right. She didn’t deserve thanks.

“Where will you go?”

“I have a place in Covington,” she said. It was a lie, but she wanted to give her something safe to tell the so-called FBI when they came calling.

“I guess I owe you some money, you know, a few months rent and a security deposit.”

“No. Keep it. I don’t need it,” Emily said, knowing full well Mrs. Rincon could not afford to pay her.

“I don’t think I can do that.”

“Then keep it as a graduation present for Danny, from both of us.”

In the end, after some cajoling, she acquiesced, with a nod and shaky smile.

“Whatever happened in Korea, I think you were good for him, even if it couldn’t really last. He’ll miss you, and so will I.”

“People may come around, asking about me. Official looking people. Tell them what you know. Don’t hide anything to protect me.”

“Who are these people? What do they want? Is it about Korea”

“No, it’s not, at least not directly. It’s the same old people as before, or people just like them. They may say they’re with the FBI. It doesn’t matter. Whatever they say, don’t make a fuss. Just answer their questions. Don’t put yourself in danger for me.”

“Well, I don’t know very much that I could tell them. You were a good tenant and a good neighbor.”

Emily smiled at her landlady, then drew her into a long hug. Neither one wanted to let go, perhaps out of the same fear of letting the emotions they ought to feel peek out.

“I’d better go now. Thank you.”

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Chapter
22

Through a Glass Darkly—Twenty One Years Ago

“My father is dead,” she told him, in a shaky voice. “I need your help.”

“Why me, of all people?”

“I have no one else to turn to.”

Shu Xi traveled a long way to find George Kane. Her long, black hair trailed behind her in the breeze as she clung to the railing. The ferry churned across the channel, bringing its cargo of cars, bicycles, market carts and people over to the mainland.

“What about your brother? Why not go to Tammy?”

“I can’t tell him. He is the problem.”

“But how can you trust me? I thought I was the enemy. My team attacked your family compound, stole your father’s money.”

“You have nothing to gain from helping me. That’s how I know I can trust you. Besides, I saw it in your eyes that night, when you protected me from Walker.”

George shook his head. He was puzzled, not by the way she knew she could trust him—she could—but by how she knew he would agree to help. Was he so easy to read? How had she learned to see right through people? Perhaps she learned it that night, when she first looked into his eyes and saw that he wouldn’t kill her or the children.

“Tammy talks of making a real alliance with Moh Heng to make the Mong Tai a legitimate military force in Burma, and not just a drug gang.”

“That sounds dangerous but, you know, good.”

“It is good. It’s what our father used to be, as a young man, before the drug trade distracted him. I want my brother to do this. But he is obsessed by the idea of getting revenge on Walker. He can’t focus on anything else until he settles that.”

“You realize, don’t you, that Walker is my cousin?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t help Tammy kill him.”

“No. That’s not what I want. But can you keep him from killing my brother? I’m just so afraid for him.”

“What makes you think he needs my help? Doesn’t he have an army on his side?”

“Yes, but you saw them that night. They are mainly peasants and farm boys, not trained assassins. They are no match for you or your cousin.” She turned silent and looked down. “I’m sorry.”

George knew what she meant, and it wasn’t to insult him with the comparison to Walker. She evidently understood that about him, too, his visceral disgust with his cousin.

“I’m sorry, too.”

“You tried to warn him about Walker, that he’s hungry for death, but Tammy wouldn’t listen. I saw it, too, that night, the look in his eyes. Tammy is not prepared to face a man like that, and he may have found him. Can you help me?”

~~~~~~~

Some bears have a sixth sense for when they are being followed. Occasionally, in order to turn the tables, they double back in what seems like a long slow loop, until they are effectively tracking the tracker. George figured this is what Walker was probably doing to Tammy. No way he wouldn’t recognize a hunt. Unlike the bear, he would relish the discovery, toy with his pursuer, perplex him and torment him, until he could have the final pleasure of killing him. This was Walker’s way.

Shu Xi overheard Tammy say Walker had gone to ground on an island at the eastern edge of the Celebes Sea. It didn’t matter if he was right, whether Walker had ever really been hiding there. George knew Walker would be there precisely because that’s where Tammy was looking for him. And Meacham was building his secret headquarters there. Virtually a fortress, the unfinished construction site was a warren of tunnels and underground chambers—the perfect place to confound an enemy.

A tropical storm washed over the island the day before and the workers had to be evacuated. Walker prized isolation, and he loved dank, dark holes above all. He would be there, waiting for his prey with whatever sword he had just acquired.

Getting there in time to be of any use was not going to be easy. Meacham’s contacts at the base were his only hope. He didn’t care if he was found out afterwards. Some debts must be paid on demand, and some wrongs made right, at least to the extent possible. He just needed someone to agree to take him there without checking out his story beforehand.

~~~~~~~

“I can’t believe you’re going down there,” Danko exclaimed. “What’s this girl to you?”

“You gonna help me or not?” George asked. “It’s not like I’m asking you to come along.”

“Oh, I’m coming, if only to see Meacham’s shangri-la one more time. I think he’s spent most of Khun Sa’s fortune down there.”

“Okay, fine, but how are we getting there?”

“That part’s easy. There’s an ensign, fresh out of the Academy, Meacham’s been using her to chauffeur Walker all over the South China Sea. I don’t think she knows what he’s all about, but she’s got the clearance to fly us down there, and I think I can sweet talk her.”

Six hours later, carrying two heavy duffle bags, George and Danko boarded a seaplane piloted by Ensign Savaransky. The flight to Meacham’s island would take at least five hours and require an external fuel tank, and Danko was in a talkative mood.

“Was he always this crazy?” he asked, careful not to use Walker’s name in an open cabin. The engine noise would mostly cover their conversation, but he knew caution was still necessary.

“When we were little kids, he lived down the street. We were inseparable. He was a sweet kid.”

“Did something happen, you know, to change him?”

“His mother died giving birth to his little sister,” George said in a solemn tone. “He was seven at the time. They moved away after that, and his father remarried a few years later.”

“Is that what did it?”

“Nah. I mean, that was a sad time, and he was really upset. I didn’t see him nearly as much over the next few years. But when I did, he seemed happy enough.”

George reflected on his memories for a quiet moment, and Danko didn’t want to disturb him.

“He doted on his little sister, Lauren, almost like it was a way to hang on to his mother,” he said, eventually. “There was a strong resemblance, I suppose. She had the same curly red hair and green eyes.”

A wave of nausea washed over Danko at these words, as if he couldn’t help sympathizing with Walker. An elegiac note in George’s voice did not escape his notice. “The sister must be dead, too,” he thought.

“Years later, in high school, whenever I saw him, he was so strange. I remember one hunting trip, when his dad was trying to teach him to shoot, and the importance of a clean kill. He shot a deer, and it didn’t die right away. We caught up with him a few minutes later, kneeling next to it, watching it twitching on the ground. His father yelled at him to finish it, but he just looked at it, like he was trying to find something in its eyes. My parents decided to keep us apart after that.”

“That’s kinda creepy, I guess,” Danko said. “But it’s a long way from the full blown psycho he is today.”

“There it is, straight ahead,” Ensign Savaransky shouted back into the cabin. “At eleven o’clock. We’ll be there in fifteen minutes. There’s a pier on the leeward side.”

About three miles across at it’s widest point, two hills on either side of a central valley, with a natural harbor on the southern end, the island was covered in dense jungle with no clearings or construction visible from their present altitude. Storm clouds loomed darkly some three hundred miles or so to the east. The rest of the sky formed an azure bell over the scene, tinged with gold from the late afternoon sun.

“Once Meacham gets dug in on this rock, it’s not gonna be easy to dislodge him,” Danko mused.

“Can we do a fly-by around the windward side?” George asked. “Try to keep your distance.”

The plane pitched left as Savaransky brought the nose of the plane around. The turn completed, the plane banked right and dropped to about a hundred feet above the water. George and Danko scanned the shoreline looking for any sign of Tammy’s men. Once they cleared the southeastern point and turned due west, several large motor launches came into view, empty, riding at anchor a few hundred feet offshore, enough to carry thirty or more men.

“Take us to the pier,” George said.

“So what did happen to him?” Danko asked, once George sat back down. “Do you know? Was there some sort of trauma?”

“Who knows? I mean, I didn’t see him much in those days. But something
did
happen. The summer after he graduated from high school, while he was working as a counselor at a summer camp outside Fall River, his family was killed, murdered in their sleep.”

“Holy shit,” Danko said, mouth agape. “He did it, right?”

“The sheriffs looked at him pretty carefully, but he had a solid alibi, from the camp, which was over a hundred miles away. They concluded he couldn’t have had anything to do with it.”

“But you know better?”

“I didn’t know what to think at the time. Looking back at it now, it’s hard not to suspect him. And there was something about the crime I don’t think anyone fully appreciated at the time. The bodies were cut up pretty bad, especially his stepbrothers, you know mutilated, like they were the target of some nasty emotions. But not his little sister, her neck was broken, real neat and clean, as if someone didn’t want her to suffer, or even to be disfigured in death.”

~~~~~~~

“I can’t stay here overnight, in case the storm turns this way. There’s no shelter,” Savaransky shouted over the engine noise. “I’m heading up to Davao to weather it there. I’ll be back for you at dawn.”

“It looks like there’s plenty of water, and we have enough rations,” George replied through the cockpit side-window. “I don’t think we’ll need you that early. Just be back before noon.”

He stepped off the pontoon, shouldering his duffle bag, and motioned to Danko to follow him down the pier to the beach. The engine revved behind them and roared off into silence. By the time they made the tree line, the plane was out of sight.

It didn’t take long to find the first remnants of Tammy’s men, a body slashed diagonally across the chest, fallen through a low-lying fern. Another, headless, slumped nearby under a palm, no other marks on the body. A severed hand lay a few yards away, it’s owner probably dead or dying nearby in the underbrush. The air was hot and humid, heavy with the death and life of the forest.

“His sword technique seems to have improved,” Danko observed. “At least, these guys are less messy.”

George growled and headed further into the jungle. Huddled against a large rock, trembling, they stumbled on a small contingent of Tammy’s men, fear etched into their faces. Hand gestures and Danko’s very rudimentary Mandarin somehow persuaded them not to shoot, though they hardly wanted to initiate any hostilities. George kept his gun slung over his shoulder and out of sight.

“Go to your boats,” Danko tried to tell them. “You’ll be safe there. We’ll bring your
sifu
to you.”

George hoped they understood. Of course, Tammy’s men had no particular reason to believe them or take their advice for orders. One or two might have recognized them from their previous meeting in Manila. Whatever the reason, their fear of Walker, or something reassuring about George, they gathered their courage and headed for the other end of the island, skirting the shoreline.

“We need to find high ground before the sun gets too low,” George muttered. “I think the main entrance to Meacham’s labyrinth must be nearby. Let’s see that ‘plan’ of yours.”

Danko had been to the island once, two years ago, and the blueprints he saw then might have changed. But his sketch from memory would have to do: a main entrance, and two side entrances. Of course, knowing Meacham, George assumed there would be at least one other escape route, probably dug deeper into one of the hillsides. The surface structures hadn’t even been roughed in yet, or perhaps they’d been abandoned in favor of a completely hidden complex.

From the top of the smaller hill, George spied a waterfall on the larger one.

“Will you look at that,” he snorted. “This place is a damned paradise.”

“Let’s check it out,” Danko replied. “There’s probably an entrance at the base of the cliff.”

No more bodies littered the path they cleared through the undergrowth. “Tammy’s men must not have made it this far,” George thought. The forest thinned out as they crossed the valley between the hills, finally only scattered trunks made room for a breeze, supporting a heavy canopy at least fifty feet above their heads. Speckled shade flitted across their faces and the forest floor crinkled under their boots.

“It’s a shame we can’t go barefoot here,” Danko mused.

George smiled, his thoughts just then completely unshaped by the tone of the task that lay before them. Fifty feet ahead the forest gave way to what looked like a meadow. When he pulled the last branches to the side, the afternoon sun poured over him. Some kind of beach grass covered the ground in yellow and green. Moths or butterflies danced in the lazy sun. They made their way around the edge, as if not wanting to disturb the insects and the grass.

The sound of flowing water caught George’s ear a few seconds before he saw it. Only a few feet wide, burbling along a gash it had worn away over the years, he stared down blankly at the stream. Had he finally found the water he’d been hearing in his meditations all these years? The thought was tantalizing.