Smoke and Shadow (24 page)

“
Stop,
Po
…”

Chu put three rounds into the
cocaine fueled john at less than fifteen feet. The first round
caught him in the stomach and he began to double over until the
next two slammed into his forehead and cheek. He spiraled to the
ground and the badge tumbled out of his convulsing
fingers.

Chu felt time
slow down as the badge flipped end over end on the floor. He saw
the insignia of the NYPD reflected in the overhead light. As he got
closer, he made out the word
Detective
in bold capital letters.
He tried to make out the numbers at the bottom of the badge, but
the shadow looming over him blocked his light and got his
attention.

Chu looked up in
time to see an ice pick bearing down on him. He
couldn
’
t see his
attacker, but whoever it was burst out of one of the other rooms,
leaped over the dead cop and tried to drive the steel tip into
Chu
’
s
eye.

Instinct brought
Chu
’
s hands up to
protect his face and throat. He felt the pick stab into the barrel
of the SIG. He could have held onto the weapon if he maintained his
two handed grip, but one hand still held the spare magazine. The
sudden ferocity of the attack weakened his focus. The gun tumbled
to the ground and the Fuk Ching slammed into Chu forcing him back
into the wall.

Chu
’
s body
understood the unfolding sequence of events. He lived through too
many real and simulated knife attacks to be surprised by the
technique. The gangster would keep his head buried in
Chu
’
s chest with
their bodies close together and Chu
’
s back trapped against the wall. He
would thrust low with the ice pick, driving the point up into
Chu
’
s stomach and
kidneys from a place Chu couldn
’
t see or defend. Once his kidney
ruptured, his legs would give out and his ability to fight would be
reduced to zero. Chu understood and appreciated the technique
before his back hit the wall and he moved before the first thrust
landed.

He dropped his elbow and his weight
down and to the right. He felt the steel spike bite into the loose
fabric of his jacket sleeve as he twisted his body. The gangster
focused his energy in pulling the pick out to stab again, ignoring
his footwork as Chu spun him into the wall.

He was able to
wrench the weapon out of Chu
’
s clothing, but he raised his head
too high. Chu torqued his body behind his elbow, whipping the
pointed bone across the man
’
s jaw and forcing the back of his
head into the wall with the crack of damaged
bone.

The gangster
tried to stab again, but his body acted without the direction of
his mind. His attack was clumsy, glancing off
Chu
’
s raised arm.
Chu caught the back of the man
’
s head with both hands and rammed a
knee just above his belt. The first blow lifted the man off the
ground with a desperate gasp of air. The second knee sent spurts of
blood from his nose as the gangster collapsed to the
ground.

Chu whirled around to face a new
threat and found Trent aiming his weapon in the general direction
of his death match. Diving to the ground was his first instinct,
but he held himself together long enough to realize Trent only
planned to fire if he had a clear shot during the fight. Without a
word, Trent motioned for Chu to recover his gun.

Chu picked up and reloaded his SIG,
wondering if they could get out of the Red Crane before something
else could go wrong.

Then he heard a woman scream on the
first floor.

Chu burst through the door after
Trent, covering the right side of the room while his partner
covered the left. The restaurant was empty, except for the three
women who cowered in the small space behind the cash register. Most
of the chairs had been flipped over onto the tables, but whatever
commotion brought about the scream toppled two of the chairs onto
the floor. The spokes on the back of the chair cast shadows over
the women like the bars on a cell.

Chu kept his body
low and his gun pointed away from the frightened women. He needed
to cover the front door while Trent checked their extraction route,
but he didn
’
t want
to make them feel any more threatened than they already
did.

The gesture felt
hollow somehow. The two girls weren
’
t down here to clean up the
restaurant. The cooking and cleaning staff already went home. They
were here to service the late night customers looking for little
institutionalized rape in the middle of the night. One of them
could have been the girl he saw stumble back into the restaurant
during his original stakeout. They could be here waiting to be
abused by cops like the one he shot upstairs. With all they
suffered through, the idea of making them feel better by not aiming
a gun in their direction didn
’
t mean much.

The third woman
was smaller, older and fearless. She positioned herself between Chu
and the young girls, willing to sacrifice her own body to protect
them. The image reminded Chu of his mother. How many times had she
used her body to shield him from his father
’
s abuse? How many times did she look
death in the eye and face the monster to save her son? Chu blinked
back a tear thinking about all the monsters this woman must have
faced to keep these girls safe.

But the image he
projected on her didn
’
t make any sense either. If the old woman worked at the Red
Crane, she was just as much a part of the Fuk Ching as the bald
thugs in BMWs. She saw the way the girls were treated. She knew
what happened to them every night. She might be just as responsible
for the slavery in this house as the cop with the belt or the
gangster with the ice pick.

Was she the
madam? Did she replace Ah Kay as the head of this slave house? How
could she do that? How could any woman see the suffering other
women bear at the hands of men and decide to participate in the
process? What would drive a woman to throw other women to the
wolves? Sunny Chu would do anything to protect him. What would his
life be like if he were born to a woman like this? Would he even
have a life at all? Chu shook his head in denial. He
couldn
’
t believe
his mother could be anything like the witch who began pointing a
twelve gauge in his direction.

The shotgun
couldn
’
t have been
real. It was like the thought of women selling women or
Baker
’
s family
running a slave house or armies of men dying to impress a single
woman. It all felt like a horrible mistake. Chu wanted to
understand. He wanted to figure it all out, but he
couldn
’
t think
straight. The barrel of the gun kept moving toward him and the
world made less sense as he looked into the old
woman
’
s dark
eyes.

The bark of a
suppressed pistol brought Chu back to reality. A third dark eye
grew out of the old woman
’
s forehead and began oozing blood.
She fell back between the younger girls who could only cringe and
wait for the bullets meant to kill them.

But no more
bullets came. Chu only saw his own pistol raised up in its ready
position after several rapid blinks. He didn
’
t remember firing, but the familiar
kick of recoil resonated in his limbs. Before he could consider
what he
’
d done, he
heard two soft taps on the wall behind him;
Trent
’
s signal
that the extraction route was clear. Chu turned on the balls of his
feet and ran into the kitchen without looking back at the two girls
cradling the dead madam between them.

The cool night
air hit his skin in sharp contrast to the anxious heat of close
combat. The smell of fresh garbage invaded his nose like a physical
blow. The sensations pushed him to run out of the alley, but Chu
took his time. The steps of the extraction
couldn
’
t be
rushed. One false step here and the whole op would blow up in their
faces.

Before Chu
reached his silly electric bike, he removed the suppressor from his
SIG and stuffed each piece into place in the holster under his
jacket. The bandana came down and the hat came off before he
started up the bike. The helmet and safety vest went back on,
covering both the sweat on his head and the belt holding the snake
cam. He pulled out of the alley at the same speed he went into it,
thankful the little cycle didn
’
t give him the option to go too fast
and attract attention.

Chu
didn
’
t see Trent
on the sidewalk or the street. He expected nothing less. Trent
broke right when Chu took a left out the back door and he would
initiate his own extraction, leaving the operational area under
separate and plausible means. By the time the sun came up, Trent
would be out of the city, to a place Chu couldn
’
t identify if he were caught. Chu
already decided he would ditch the bike in West Chelsea and catch
the first bus to Philly from the Port Authority. Neither man would
see or contact each other, or come back to New York City, until
Baker gave them the all clear.

“
So did you guys
hear about the thing down in Chinatown? The papers are calling it
the Red Crane Massacre.
”

Baker insisted on
having their unofficial debriefing at a club called the Press Room.
Perched on top of a boutique hotel west of Times Square, the place
had sweeping views of midtown Manhattan, the Hudson River, and
Jersey City on the other side. On this particular Friday night, the
club also had a throng of out of town twenty somethings, European
pleasure seekers and hustlers of the six figure variety. They
couldn
’
t make any
direct reference to the Red Crane op, so Baker played the game of
innocent innuendo while they sipped their Angel
’
s Envy.

“
How many bodies
did they find in there?
”
Trent grinned when he asked the question, but his
eyes scanned the people around them for possible
eavesdroppers.

“
Six, not
counting the old lady and the cop.
”

“
You
’
ve got
to be pretty cold blooded to cut down a little old
lady.
”
Trent
’
s
smile grew to an annoying size when he looked back at
Chu.

The old lady
killer shrugged and took a long sip.
“
You
’
ve got to be even more fucked up to
live the life she did. Live by the sword, die by the
sword.
”

“
True
story.
”
Trent took
a sip and the three men were quiet for a while. Perhaps each of
them thought about their own violent lives and the possibility of
dying just as cold and quick as their victims. Chu
didn
’
t speak again
until the waitress brought another round and walked away from the
table.

“
So who else did
they find in the building? What happened to
them?
”

“
They were
relocated to the Save Haven Children
’
s Center in Queens. The cops say
they rescued twenty seven girls between the ages of fourteen and
twenty. The Commissioner is calling it a great day for the fight
against human trafficking.
”

“
The
cops…
”
Chu sucked
his teeth remembering the flabby slug and his detective
badge
“
What do
they know about fighting sex slavery?
”

Baker
shrugged.
“
From
what I read, Detective Miller was given a hero
’
s funeral for his role in busting
the Fuk Ching.
”

“
Was there any
message in the papers of how Detective Miller got into the Red
Crane and found the Fuk Ching?
”