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Authors: Jacques Antoine

Tags: #Thriller, #Young Adult

Girl Takes Up Her Sword (9 page)

BOOK: Girl Takes Up Her Sword
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Chapter
11

A Private Island—Twenty Two Years Ago

“George, you heard?” Danko asked. “They’re dead, all three of ‘em.”

“Whaddya mean... it’s not just Cantorini?”

“That was a coupla months ago. Javier was just found outside a bar in Manila two days ago.”

“Yeah, but Daniels died in a car crash in Sydney a year ago, and wasn’t Cantorini shot in a casino in Panang? What makes you think they’re connected?”

“It looks like Javier was stabbed.”

“Oh.” George was silent for a moment. He knew there was no way Javier loses a random knife fight. It started to sound like a hit.

“It’s like someone’s picking us off one by one.”

“What does Meacham say?”

“He doesn’t care about us,” Danko replied. “He’s too busy building the dream fortress on his island.”

“We could go down there, you know, confront him. He needs to know about this.”

“He’s not even there. He’s got a new guy overseeing the project for him, someone from State named Cardano. They’re digging tunnels and underground bunkers, like a couple of gophers.”

“You think Khun Sa’s behind it?”

“Yeah.”

George knew what that meant. He’d felt something the last few days, like static electricity frizzing the hairs on the back of his neck. It wasn’t anything he could act on. If Danko was right, he couldn’t afford to ignore it anymore. The safe thing would be to stay at Subic Bay, but Khun Sa wasn’t likely to give up looking for him any time soon. And George always preferred facing problems directly. That’s probably why he agreed to meet Danko at this sleepy bar on the outskirts of Manila in the first place.

“If you don’t want to involve Meacham, then maybe we should go directly to Khun Sa.”

“You got to be kidding, George,” Danko said.

“It’s that or let him hunt us until he kills us.”

“We don’t have the resources for a fight like that. I mean, he’s got a goddamn army behind him.”

“I’m not saying we storm his compound again. Just that we make contact.”

“Do we even have the intel to be able to get a message to him?” Danko asked. “And if we do, what would we say?”

“I don’t mean that kind of contact,” George said, after a moment. “If we take out a few of his couriers, you know the ones in Thailand or Malaysia, he’ll come to us.”

“That’s not a bad idea. In fact, it sounds like just the sort of job for your cousin. Tell him he can use his sword.”

George frowned at the thought.

“No. That’s how we got here. Walker will just make things worse. We have to do this ourselves.

“You’re right, I guess.”

George could see Danko’s mood was considerably lightened by this suggestion. It was feasible, and giving Khun Sa’s organization a bloody nose could actually have the desired effect. But he knew it was unlikely. If this wasn’t about the money, if it was really about family, he might not be so easily dissuaded. Still, it was something for Danko to cling to.

~~~~~~~

When the call finally came, a few weeks later, George knew it was a set up. The tone of Danko’s voice was all wrong.

“George, I think they’re on to us. We need to talk.”

“Where are you?

“The Makati Grill. I’ll meet you out front.”

George stuffed the cash they’d taken off the couriers into a small backpack. His half amounted to almost three quarters of a million Australian. It probably wasn’t what they were really after, but it might be taken as some sort of show of good faith.

The taxi let him out a block away. No sign of Danko on the street. Why would there be? No point looking for him inside the bar. He turned down the alley, squeezed past the dumpster and the grease trap outside the kitchen door.  The aroma of garlic and lemongrass clung to his jacket as he walked past. He felt the air move behind his ear as the club swung down. A quick turn, he controlled the wrist and swung the club into the groin of a large man in the shadows. Two other men, both smaller, faster than the first, lunged, one high, one low. But George was still too quick for them. Another pivot step allowed him to control the high stick, while bringing the first club up under the chin of the man swinging for his ribs. Four smooth, rhythmic strokes left all three assailants groaning on the greasy pavement.

“You’re friend will die,” one of the smaller men was able to say as he looked up at George.

“Take me to him.”

George paused to bring the club down on the head of the largest man, who was trying to stand. He slumped back down into a loose pile of empty banana cartons.

“Our orders were to bring you in a sack.”

“Change of plans,” George muttered, as he helped him up. “Let’s go.”

In a last, desperate effort, with a knife that had been concealed in his boot, the man thrust a small blade towards his face. Without flinching, George trapped the wrist, twisted down and then up as he stepped through. The blade might have cut a deep gash in the man’s side if George hadn’t bent his wrist down at a sharp angle. He yelped in pain. One more twist smashed his face against the dumpster.

Looking for all the world like two aimless drunks, the two of them walked arm in arm out to the street where George hailed a taxi. Twenty minutes later, they pulled up in front of a wood frame house in a quiet neighborhood on the outskirts of town. George helped his companion to the front door and knocked loudly. Within seconds he was surrounded by armed men who hustled the two of them inside.

“I see you’ve accepted our invitation,” said a slender young man in the main room seated on a threadbare couch, with cotton batting sticking out here and there. “Where are the other two?”

“We left them at the restaurant,” George replied.

“Dead?”

“No.

“That’s not your way, is it?”

George slipped the backpack off his shoulder and tossed it onto the other end of the couch.

“There’s what remains of your courier’s money.”

“That means nothing. You owe my father much more than that.”

“We don’t have the money or the gold. But you already knew that.”

“I don’t care about money. That’s not why I summoned you here.”

At a tiny gesture, two men opened a closet door and yanked Danko out on to the floor between them. Bound, face swollen and bloodied, he looked up at George and smiled woozily.

“Here is your friend.”

Another gesture and a door behind him opened to reveal a pretty, diminutive woman with long black hair. She stepped forward, walked around the couch, and looked George in the eye from a few inches away. Tears glistened in her eyes, her lips trembled, before she pulled an uncomfortable smile together and dipped her head in respect. She turned to the man on the couch and shook her head. He couldn’t follow the next words they exchanged.

“You protected my sister that night, didn’t you? And the rest of the children.”

George nodded.

“But you didn’t protect everyone,” he continued, his voice rising in agitation. “Not my wife, and my son.”

“No,” George replied. “I’m sorry.”

“Who was it? Who killed them?”

George looked down at Danko, lying helplessly at his feet. Had he actually refused to tell them? Old habits die hard, he thought.

“David Walker,” he said, without hesitation.

“Where can I find this Walker?”

“Don’t seek him” George said quietly. “You won’t like what you find.”

The slender man leaped from the couch, his face contorted in rage. All the guns in the room were suddenly leveled at George.

“Tammy,” cried the woman, her voice almost pleading.

He sat back down, still muttering.

“Walker is too dangerous even for you,” George said. “That’s the best advice I can give you. Killing
is
his way. It’s all he knows.”

“It’s only because my sister wants to repay you that I don’t kill the two of you now. Take your friend and get out. If you cross my path again, my sister won’t be able to save you.”

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Chapter
12

At Teddy’s House

Mrs. Wilchuk heard the tumult coming from her son’s room. The door bell rang, and he came running down the stairs before she could get to the entry hall. He flashed her an imploring look. Perhaps it would be wiser just to wait in the kitchen, until he got over the shock of their arrival.

There was no sound for a few minutes. “Is he keeping them waiting out there on the porch?” she wondered. “What’s he so nervous about?”

The front door creaked open, and the screen door slapped shut. “I’ll give him a ten count,” she thought. “If he doesn’t bring them in to meet me, I’ll have to do it myself.” She thrust herself through the kitchen doorway at eight.

Teddy froze at the sight of his mother, as if he’d been caught in the middle of some mischief. Behind him stood an enormous boy, more a man in his dimensions than most of the adult males of her acquaintance. A tall Asian girl with short black hair smiled over her son’s shoulder. Is this who he’s been gushing over the past few weeks? Now she could see why. It was hard to believe he’d actually gotten up the nerve to ask her to dance at the prom. Just trying to picture the scene brought a sneaky smile to her face. After an uncomfortable silence, the man-boy spoke.

“Hi, Mrs. Wilchuk. I’m Steve, and this is...”

“And you must be Emily. I’ve heard so much about you,” she couldn’t resist saying with a sidelong glance at her son, who looked completely mortified.

“Uh, yeah, Mom, these are my friends. We’ve got some work to do.” He turned to lead them upstairs to the privacy of his room.

“Teddy, maybe your friends would like a piece of cherry pie and some milk.”

“Mom,” he groaned, adding a long, sullen syllable to the word.

“I’d love some pie,” said Steve.

“Me, too,” Emily chimed in.

“Why don’t the three of you just work at the kitchen table?” She knew she’d outmaneuvered her son. The pie was the trump card. She’d make small talk for a few minutes before retiring to the dining room to work on some bit of handiwork or other. Of course, she’d have to retrieve this and that from the kitchen periodically. Teddy rolled his eyes at her.

“This pie is delicious, Mrs. Wilchuk,” said Steve as he shoveled forkfuls into his mouth. “There’s nothing like homemade pie.”

“Just a sliver for me,” said Emily, as she eyed the slab disappearing in front of Steve.

“You grew up on that estate on the edge of the forest, didn’t you?”

Emily nodded, sucking on a cherry.

“It’s such a shame about the fire. Where are you living now?”

“I’ve got an apartment in town, over Mrs. Rincon’s garage.”

“By yourself?” she asked, in genuine surprise. “What about your family, where are they?”

Teddy cleared his throat impatiently.

“My mom lives in Charlottesville, you know, with the Cardano family.”

“Didn’t she cook for them, at the estate? I think I met her a few times shopping in town. She has such pretty, long, black hair.”

“Yup, that’s her. I like to think of her as the homework enforcer.”

Well, you’ve made her very proud, I’m sure.”

“I hope so.”

“What about your father?” she pressed on, determined to learn as much as she could about this girl who had so charmed her son.

“Mom, you’re being...”

“It’s okay, Teddy. My father passed away last year.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said with a little gasp. “Please forgive me. Was it in the fire?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Emily replied cryptically. “He died trying to keep me safe.”

Steve looked up from his pie at these words.

“Oh, Emily,” he said. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry to hear that.”

Teddy looked aghast and just stood there speechless. She might have to do a lot more work for her son. Doesn’t he even know her story? Or has he just been mooning over her from afar?

Emily smiled sweetly at her, at them all. How strange she is, even inscrutable. Mrs. Wilchuk could see she’d been outmaneuvered. The conversation was no longer sustainable, so she withdrew to the next room after a few polite phrases.

What a disappointment to hear her son say he didn’t want to speak at graduation. Emily clearly wanted Steve to give whatever address they all agreed on. For his part, Steve was mainly interested in devising humorous ways of thanking their favorite teachers.

“And let’s not forget Mr. Casella. Remember the time he showed us how to toss pizza dough?”

“Yeah,” Teddy replied. “He was like ‘Nobody passes this class without learning how to make pizza.’”

“It’s like an essential life skill.”

They all laughed.

Emily insisted on including some recognition of the Principal, Mrs. Fredericks, and Mrs. Abernathy, the AP.

“Talk about homework enforcers,” Steve said.

“You have no idea how much trouble they’ve gone to on our behalf, all of us.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“And we should also say something about the future. You know, something about how we’ve been prepared for a new adventure.”

“You got something in mind?” Steve asked.

“I’ve been working on this, but it’s still pretty rough.” She held out a piece of loose leaf paper and read from it. “Learning means admitting there’s something we don’t know, something that has to be discovered. In school, we can look to our teachers for guidance. But even with their help, learning is still an adventure each of us must undertake on our own. Graduation ushers in all new adventures, and even if we find new guides, we still must rely on ourselves and our own initiative. The most important gift our teachers have given us is the knowledge that we have the resources within ourselves to succeed, even when we think we don’t know. That’s what it is to learn.”

The boys stared at her.

“That’s too profound for me,” Steve said.

“Isn’t it kind of bleak?” Teddy asked. “I mean, it sounds like the school’s abandoning us.”

“Isn’t it more like when they teach you to swim by pushing you in the deep end?” Steve asked.

“I guess so,” said Emily. “But I was kind of thinking mainly along the lines of encouraging self-reliance.”

“You mean like in the Emerson essay we read in English?”

“Wait. I’ve got that book upstairs. Maybe we can get a quote from it. I’ll go get it.”

“Teddy, I was hoping we could stick to our own words,” she called after him. But it was too late.

“You were right,” Steve said, after a moment. “Amanda didn’t take it well when I asked about you. But you probably saw what happened.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry about that.”

“Hey. It’s not like it was your fault. You warned me. I still can’t believe you forgave Mel for that business about the sext. She says you’d forgive Amanda, too. Is that true?”

“Forgave Mel? Is that what I did?”

“That’s what she says.”

After a brief silence, Emily groaned and spoke: “It’s just, you know, I figured there was more to Mel than that. Amanda doesn’t need me to forgive her. It’s not like we’re gonna see each other after graduation.”

“I dunno. We’re all going to Charlottesville next year, or so I’ve heard. Besides, do you really want to leave here with hard feelings like that still lying around?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure Amanda doesn’t want anything from me.”

“I guess not,” Steve conceded. “But you’re open to talking to her?”

“What are you, some kind of matchmaker? You might be better off not poking around in Amanda’s feelings about me.”

Teddy came back downstairs with a book. They bantered over whether to include a quotation or not, but no particular passage quite seemed to fit. After they left, Mrs. Wilchuk intercepted her son before he could escape into his room.

“That’s her?”

Teddy rolled his eyes and squirmed.

“Mom, do we have to?”

“She’s very pretty, I’ll give her that. And she seems nice.”

“Nice is hardly the word for her.”

“What? She’s not nice?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just that she’s really cool, even kinda dangerous.”

When his mother pressed him to explain, he showed her the videos on his computer of Emily winning a karate tournament. She tried to look unimpressed.

“That’s all well and good, I suppose. But why do you care? It’s not like you ever wanted to do karate yourself. And we tried so hard to get you to join that school over by Goshen.”

“I am interested in karate, Mom. Just not in that way.”

He slammed his bedroom door when he got upstairs.

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BOOK: Girl Takes Up Her Sword
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