White Ginger (16 page)

“If the contract has been processed through an agent,” Jason acknowledged, “we won't have a problem.” He sounded confident in his statement. “We're not the law or the government. If the agent doesn't want to talk, I'm sure I can persuade him otherwise.”

She stared at him. There he sat, blithely discussing using her as bait to draw out assassins and then torturing someone to find out who was behind the attempts on her life. She appreciated his efforts but wondered where the man she'd fallen in love with had gone.

He must have seen something in her eyes because he put down his fork and reached for her hand. “I'm sorry.” There was genuine regret in his voice. “Sometimes I forget myself.”

Returning his gaze, Bai searched his eyes for an innocence that wasn't there anymore. It broke her heart.

“I'm sorry, too.”

Jason sipped his coffee as a thoughtful expression shaped his features. “The fear and anxiety that you're feeling . . . you can control those emotions, even use them to focus.”

“I don't understand,” Bai replied. “I was pumped full of adrenaline when the woman at the airport attacked me. My body reacted even though I was scared and angry at the same time. But now that I know I'm being hunted, I'm a nervous wreck.”

“You have to change your mindset. You've had too much time to dwell on the possibilities. We're predators, animals at heart. You need to tap into that primal energy and use it. Don't be the hunted, Bai. Be the hunter.”

She wasn't sure she could follow his advice. She'd spent all of her adult life attempting to become a better person. Being a hunter felt like a repudiation of everything she believed.

“I'm not sure I'm that kind of an animal,” she replied tiredly. “I like to think of myself as more of a grazer—protect the young and helpless, help the aged and infirm. Being a predator isn't my thing. “

He leaned back in the booth and dismissed her qualms with a wave of his hand. “I know you. When the time comes, you'll do what's necessary to stay alive. You've already proven that.” His smile was a subtle taunt. “You have an amazing capacity for survival. It's in your blood. You come from a long line of predators.”

His assertion made her uneasy. She didn't want to be a killer. Her first impulse was to deny his claim, but she knew it would be a waste of time. He wanted to believe she was like him. He wanted her to be a part of his world.

“And what's in your blood, Jason? What's with this reckless thirst for danger? You knew, even before you came here, trouble was brewing, yet you walked into a trap and dragged me into it with you. And you're enjoying it.”

The smile drifted from his face. “You're right about my dragging you into this. It was a mistake to bring you here. When I realized Sammy Tu was headed for Vancouver, I should have found a way to leave you behind. But I wanted to be with you. I can feel you slipping away.”

She could see the pain in his eyes. She looked down, unable to meet his gaze. “We're not kids anymore, Jason. Maybe this isn't the time or place, but the fact is, as much as I love you, I can't go on like this. You drop in and out of my life without warning. I want more. I want to come home to a husband who loves me and warms my bed every night. What we have isn't enough for me.”

He opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by his cell phone. He put the device to his ear. His widening smile seemed to indicate good news.

“I have to leave now,” he said brusquely. “Keep those thoughts on hold. We'll finish this conversation later.”

He glided out of the booth in one fluid motion, stopping only long enough to put his hand on Bai's cheek and caution her. “Stay here. You'll be safe in the café until this is over. If someone is stupid enough to come in here and threaten you, don't hesitate to use the knife.”

Grabbing hold of his hand, she looked up at him. “Don't be in a hurry to die. You have a daughter who needs you.”

Jason stopped and looked at her, his smile vanishing as his features took on a more serious expression. He nodded once, turned, and walked in the direction of the lobby. She sat at the table and watched his retreating back.

As Jason walked out of the restaurant, four men, one of them Shan, emerged from a booth on the other side of the room. Their eyes followed Jason. Bai's heart skipped a beat. She found herself scrambling out of the booth, her fear forgotten. Four against one was too many even for Jason. She needed to even the odds.

Her voice carried across the restaurant. “Shan!”

Shan turned her way with a surprised look on his face. He hesitated, his head swiveling between Bai and Jason as indecision knotted his features. She strolled toward Shan, smiling, while sweat trickled down the small of her back and fear wrenched her gut.

Turning abruptly, Shan gestured to two of his men. They peeled off to follow Jason while Shan and another man waited for Bai. Her smile broadened. She'd managed to split the opposition and give Jason a fighting chance. Now all she had to do was survive her own reckless ploy.

Shan forced a smile onto his face as she approached. His contempt bled through the brittle grin. Bai had to squelch the instinct to run in the other direction.

He extended his hands, palms up. “How fortunate. I was just looking for you.” His tinny voice ingratiated. “I tried your room, but no one answered. I have the man, Sammy Tu, you've been looking for. But we have a problem. He says he'll only talk to the
souxun
.”

There it was—a deadly game of cat and mouse. She studied his face for any sign of compassion. His cold expression regarded her as if she were a different species, a bug to be squashed. She could see he meant to kill her.

“That's good news,” she replied, working hard to maintain her smile. “Where is he? Do you know if he has a girl with him?”

“We have him in a room on the seventh floor. I didn't see a girl, but Mr. Tan, here,” Shan gestured to the man standing deferentially at his side, “will take you to him. I, unfortunately, have other duties to attend to.”

On cue, Tan stepped forward and bowed slightly. The tenuous bow was too shallow to be a sign of respect. Bai's grandfather had always advised, “If you're going to bow at all, bow low.” It was obvious Tan had never met her grandfather, by virtue of the fact that he still breathed.

Bai stared him in the eye with an unrelenting gaze. Her scrutiny seemed to unsettle him. He looked away and then down at his shoes.

“I'll be happy to accompany Brother Tan,” she said.

Tan turned his head away as what might have been guilt flickered across his features. He might follow Shan's orders, but he didn't appear to be especially happy with the situation. She hoped she might use Tan's shame to drive a wedge between him and his boss.

Shan flicked his hand at Tan and turned away from Bai, a rude dismissal. Tan took the cue to usher her toward the lobby. She went willingly. If nothing else, she reasoned, she'd finally get the chance to meet Sammy Tu.

As they walked into the lobby and past the concierge desk, Bai waved at the lazing bellhop. He waved back reticently with a look of confusion. Tan turned to see who, or what, had drawn Bai's attention. While he was distracted, she took the opportunity to slip her knife from its sheath and hold the razor-sharp blade between her finger and thumb, the hilt hidden within the sleeve of her jacket.

Tan walked straight to the bank of elevators and stopped to push the “up” button. She turned to him and smiled brightly. His expression remained wary.

The elevator door opened. Tan waved Bai into the lift. She stepped into the elevator and waited until he lifted his hand to punch the button for the seventh floor. Before the elevator door closed, she had the knife poised under his eye. The sharp blade drew a line of blood across his cheek.

She whispered into his ear. “Did you really think I'd be so gullible?”

“I don't know what you mean. I'm taking you to see Sammy Tu. That's all.”

Perspiration ran down his forehead. He swallowed convulsively, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. She could almost smell the fear on him. She wondered if he could smell the fear on her.

“Flinch, and you're dead,” she warned.

She pulled his jacket back with her free hand and ripped the automatic weapon from his shoulder holster. Her thumb flicked off the safety and cocked the hammer as she pressed the barrel into his back. His body went rigid. As she drew the knife away from his face, he let out a long sigh of relief and slowly braced his hands against the elevator doors to take deep breaths.

She slipped the blade carefully back into its sheath before frisking him for more weapons. As the elevator dinged at the seventh floor, the doors started to slide open and he raised his hands. It was then she discovered a solid object—hard and heavy—holstered to Tan's back. She flipped up the back of his coat and pulled out a throwing hatchet.

“Are you serious?” She looked at the archaic weapon. “Really? You actually want to go back to being known as ‘hatchet men'? When Jason finds out about this, he's going to chop you into little pieces with this relic.”

Bai demonstrated by waving the ax in front of Tan's ashen face.

“I wasn't given a choice,” he pleaded. “Shan made an example of those who refused to carry the ax. I'd rather be killed by the
Hung Kwan
than by Shan. It would be a cleaner death.”

Given Shan's behavior, Bai conceded Tan might have had a valid argument. “What if I can get you out of this mess?”

Her offer was genuine. She needed an ally.

He turned his head to look at her with interest. “How?”

“Nobody's going to blame you for staying alive by playing along with Shan. But now it's time to choose sides. You help me out, and I'll square things with Jason.”

“Or what?”

He fished for alternatives. Bai looked at him and shook her head in frustration. “Do you really want to try bartering with an angry woman holding a gun? Are you that stupid?”

He shrugged, leaving her to form her own opinion.

“Listen,” she said in exasperation, “you can start running now and see how far you get. You're a dead man if Shan finds out I took away your toys, and you're a dead man for crossing the
Hung Kwan
. It would seem keeping me alive is your best chance of surviving this mess.”

He contemplated her offer. The frown on his face said he wasn't happy with either choice.

“Given the alternative,” he said reluctantly, “I'm your man.”

He held out his hand for his weapons. Bai smiled at his audacity.

“Your enthusiasm is inspiring,” she said, slapping his hand away with the blunt side of his hatchet.

She released the tension on the hammer of the gun but kept it leveled. “Trust comes in small increments. Let's start with your telling me everything you know about Sammy Tu.”

“I don't know very much,” he admitted. “Shan introduced me to him this evening. He's down the hall in room 724. My impression, so far, is that he slithered out of a swamp.”

“Is there a young girl with him?” she asked.

“No. At least, I haven't seen a girl.” He stopped to ponder a moment. “It's strange, though. Shan said something to Sammy Tu earlier. Something about the young needing discipline. I didn't understand what they were talking about. The comment just struck me as odd.”

“To say Shan is odd is an understatement. His hatred for women runs deep.”

Tan averted his eyes. He seemed to be hiding something.

“Is there something you'd like to tell me?” she asked.

“There are rumors, but that's all. It's probably nothing.”

“What kind of rumors?”

“That Shan likes to hurt women. I don't know if it's true. I've never even seen Shan with a woman, let alone seen him hit one.”

“Do you have children, Tan?”

His features became guarded “I have two daughters. Why?”

“What would you do if someone tried to hurt them?”

He replied without hesitation. “I'd kill them.”

“I'm starting to like you better all the time, Mr. Tan.”

His smile was hesitant. “Do you want me to take you to Sammy Tu now?”

“After you,” Bai said, pointing down the hallway with the ax.

He nodded then turned to walk down the corridor. She followed, tucking the ax handle inside the belt at her waist as she walked.

Turning a corner, Tan stopped before room 724. He knocked and called out. “It's Tan. Open up.”

Smiling into the peephole, Tan put on a good show. She still had the pistol at his back, but it wasn't pointed at him. At some point, she realized, she had to trust her instincts.

The door rattled as the safety chain was released. A thin man with a crimped face stood in the doorway with both hands poised on his hips, like a comic book hero.

“And who do we have here?” His voice was that of the man from the stairwell. Amusement distorted his face. He looked like a happy clown.