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Rhongji had steadily sunk into himself under his cousin's harsh words and cold tone. Now he looked up in fear. "I didn't think..." His excuse was abruptly terminated by a sharp slap across the head.
"That's right, you didn't think," Gao snarled. "You've never thought in your life, and you're not going to try now. When I left here, what did I tell you?"
Still cupping his ear where Gao's palm had hit him, the repentant man mumbled, "You told me to keep my nose clean and to tend strictly to business."
"Exactly, and what the hell did you do?"
"I do tend to business!" Rhongji protested. "We haven't had one break in distribution since I took over."
"And that's probably the only thing that's saved your miserable hide." Gao sighed as his cousin stared at him with dawning panic in his eyes. "Rhongji," he said more gently. "You do not mess around with these people. You know the Chameleon insists on discretion. She doesn't mind if you go elsewhere if you want to gamble and whore around, but she won't have you drawing attention in her backyard, got it?"
Shamefacedly, the other man asked, "Is this about the incident at the Aces High Club?"
Gao nodded. This had been part of the briefing Liang had given him. His cousin had been in an after hours high-stakes game with other high rollers, one of whom held a prominent position on the city parks commission. When the bureaucrat had lost heavily, he'd turned on Rhongji accusing him of cheating. Half drunk himself, the drug trafficker had taken exception to the slur and attacked his accuser until he was pulled away. Charges hadn't been laid after a Chameleon representative quickly visited the bureaucrat in hospital and explained how it would be in his best interests to attribute his injuries to a mugging.
"In part. Police had their suspicions, but they couldn't shake his story that he'd suffered his broken jaw during a robbery when he'd been walking to his car after work one night."
Regarding his cousin closely, Gao could tell the gravity of the situation was finally sinking in. Deciding Rhongji needed a more vivid demonstration of what the Chameleon's displeasure meant, he said, "Get your coat. You're coming with me."
Rhongji looked up in confusion and fear. Gao shook his head. "If I were going to kill you, cousin, I'd hardly have left a witness alive, would I?"
Pale, and not looking very reassured, the heavy man stood and made his way to the bedroom of the lush apartment. Gao followed him and watched as his cousin dressed, nodding approvingly when the man shuffled through his closet, donning conservative clothes in stark contrast to his brilliant red silk boxers.
Wordlessly, the shaken man followed Gao from the apartment and down to the rental car. The next few hours were spent in reconnaissance as Gao and Rhongji drove from the docks to a small bar close to the Port Administrative offices to a bland middle class Surrey neighbourhood. After carefully checking each location, Gao made his decision. His cousin had refrained from asking too many questions, and Gao approved of his newfound reticence. Deciding they might as well eat first, he stopped at a White Spot restaurant where he and Rhongji joined the early dinner crowd, slipping inconspicuously into a back booth.
It was only after they'd ordered that Rhongji finally asked, "What are we doing?"
"We are having dinner," Gao answered calmly, his dark eyes forbidding any further questions. His cousin nodded mutely and when his meal came, only played with his food. Gao made no attempt to put him at ease, finishing his own dinner in silence.
They were back outside the Port buildings before six, parked discreetly between two cars on a side street that provided a view of the employee's parking lot. Keeping a late model green Grand Prix in sight, he glanced again at the photo Liang had given him. When a group of uniformed men left the building and split up in several directions, he smiled as his prey walked directly to the Grand Prix. The target, a balding, heavy-set man with a prominent beer belly, unlocked his car and slid inside. Gao started his car and smoothly pulled away from the curb, not waiting to see which direction the Grand Prix would leave in.
Startled, Rhongji turned to him. "Aren't you going to follow him?"
"No need. Our foolish friend is a man of unchanging habits. He always goes to the same bar directly after work. He stays for a couple of hours and then goes home to the wife and kids." With a cold smile at his cousin, Gao added, "You and I are going to change his routine slightly tonight."
The two men drove directly to the bar they'd checked out earlier in the day. The bar was on a busy street, which suited Gao well. Stopping a block away, he parked where he had a clear view of the bar's front door. He permitted himself a small triumphant smile when the Grand Prix drove past him and turned onto a side street. Within moments, their target could be seen walking out onto the main street and entering the bar.
"Now what?" Rhongji asked restlessly. His cousin's icy glare instantly stopped his fidgeting.
"Now we wait." Deliberately Gao turned away from his companion and fixed his eyes on the bar. Several hours passed in virtual silence as Gao ignored all attempts at conversation. Finally, glancing at his watch, Gao started the car, ignoring a sigh of relief from beside him. Turning onto the side street, he saw the Grand Prix parked in a pay lot, as he knew it would be. Pulling into the alley that ran behind the bar, he edged the car close to the buildings and shut it off. Motioning his cousin to follow him, he exited the car, leaving it unlocked.
Taking the long route around the parking lot, Gao laughed a little at his own caution. There was no attendant, only a machine that dispensed prepaid tickets, but he wasn't taking any chances. Slipping soundlessly between rows of cars, he approached the Grand Prix and quickly punctured all four tires with his blade. Retreating one row over, he and Rhongji waited.
Having to duck once when a patron returned for his car, it was no more than ten minutes later when the customs agent entered the lot. Weaving a little, he made his way to the Grand Prix. He'd begun to open his door when he noticed his flat front tire. Swearing, he kicked at it only to notice the back one was flat too. Cursing loudly, he walked around the car, his tirade getting louder with each flat tire.
Gao and Rhongji walked over. "Hey man, everything all right?" Gao asked pleasantly. The man had knelt beside his front tire and was shaking his head.
"Some asshole slashed my tires!" he complained angrily, not even looking up at the men's approach.
Gao was on him instantly, holding his blade to the man's throat and leaning over him as the customs agent froze in fear. Rhongji stood back slightly, glancing around nervously.
"I have a message from the Chameleon," Gao whispered in the man's ear. The terrorized man squeaked but didn't move. "Your demands are unacceptable, and the Chameleon wishes to remind you who it is you work for." His blade still at the man's throat, he moved his foot forward to press down on the man's hand that had been resting on the pavement by the tire. "You and your family exist at the Chameleon's pleasure, and if you need help remembering that little fact..."
Gao pulled his blade from the man's throat and slashed downward, severing two of the man's fingers that had been pinned against the ground. Before his victim could recover from the shock enough to even scream, Gao stood and slammed the man's head against the side of the car, dropping him like a stone into a gathering pool of his own blood. Contemptuously kicking the sundered digits under the car, he turned and walked rapidly away, followed by his stunned cousin.
It was only once they were back on the main street, melding smoothly with the heavy traffic that Gao glanced over to his cousin. Rhongji was pale and staring blindly out the window. The slender man inwardly shook his head. The other man projected a tough image that had served him well, but Gao knew his cousin lacked the streak of barbarity that he himself had. Even his cousin's position in the Chameleon's organization was mostly an administrative one, setting up and regulating drug distribution routes. Rhongji rarely had to get his hands dirty, and Gao knew he'd remember this evening's work for a long time, which was exactly what he had intended.
Sev
eral blocks away Gao pulled up next to a public phone. Rhongji glanced at him in puzzlement. "It hardly serves the Chameleon's purpose if he dies from blood loss. Call 911 and report a mugging in the parking lot. Tell the operator that it looked like the man was hurt badly, and they should send an ambulance. Then hang up."
Uncertainly Rhongji opened his door. As he got out, Gao snapped, "Don't leave any fingerprints."
He watched approvingly as his cousin used his jacket sleeve over his hand to grasp the receiver and the corner of his lighter to punch the buttons. With a few quick sentences Rhongji followed orders and then hung up abruptly, swiftly sliding back into the car.
Driving directly to the airport, Gao parked his car in the rental return lot and then turned to his cousin. Extracting his blade from his pocket, he idly turned it over in his hand as he eyed Rhongji coldly.
"Do I need to go over what is expected of you from now on?"
Rhongji shook his head jerkily.
"Good. But just so we're clear, understand this, cousin. What you saw tonight is infinitesimally minor compared to what will happen if you cause the Chameleon any further problems."
Gao could smell the stink of his cousin's fear, but he continued relentlessly. "I won't be able to protect you. Understand, too, that if she orders me to eliminate you as an unacceptable threat to the organization, our relationship won't save you." He sighed inwardly at the look of horrified incredulity on Rhongji's face that slowly evolved into fearful acceptance.
"Can I go?"
Gao considered his cousin's stiff posture and then nodded. "Go." As the man reached for the door handle, he added, "Behave, Rhongji." With a bitter backwards look, his cousin exited the car and stalked off. Gao watched him head for a taxi stand. Sitting quietly for several long moments, he finally stashed his knife back in the briefcase, extracted his return ticket and went to turn in his car and await his flight.
Chapter Eight
RHIANNON STUDIED HER bus schedule, then picked up the tattered city map that had been laying beside her on the stoop. Frowning a little, she worked out how to get to Lee's place on public transit. She was still amazed that she'd agreed to the unprecedented invitation. Rhi wasn't entirely convinced that she wouldn't ultimately back out, but decided she'd better check out the route just in case.
Catching movement out of the corner of her eye, she glanced up to see a tall, gangling figure making his way down the street. An involuntary smile crossed her face as she watched Father David ambling toward her, but she quashed it before he entered her yard. Carrying a plastic bag, he sauntered up to the stoop and flopped down beside her without saying a word.
Eyeing him with a half-amused, half-irritated gaze, she said, "You never know when to give up, do you, Ichabod?"
He grinned and shook his head. "Nope." Opening the bag, he extracted a can of Coke and passed it to her before taking a second one for himself. Popping the tab, he tilted his head back and took a long drink. Rhi watched in fascination as his prominent Adam's apple bobbed with each swallow.
Sighing in relief, he lowered the can and pressed it to his face. "Hot one out today," he said casually. Then, gesturing at the unopened can in Rhi's hand, he assured her, "It's cold. I just picked them up at Joe's."
Rhi nodded. Joe's was the ancient neighbourhood store that had miraculously survived the arrival of the convenience chains. She pulled back the tab and took a small sip. "S'good," she conceded. The two sat in amiable silence sipping their Cokes until David pointed at the schedule she'd set aside.
"Going somewhere?"
She peered at him, but his pale blue eyes showed nothing but casual interest. Relaxing, she said, "I was invited to dinner tomorrow and I was just figuring out how to get there."
"You haven't been to your friend's house before?"
She couldn't help a small ironic laugh. "I barely know these people. Heck, I've only met Lee a few times, and I've never met her family." She shook her head in puzzlement. "I still don't know why she asked me."
"It's entirely possible that she simply likes you and would like to get to know you better," he suggested dryly. Rhi looked up at him sharply and wasn't sure she liked the amusement dancing around his thin lips, but before she could retort, he asked, "Did you meet her at work?"
"Sort of." Rhi told David the whole story of her initial encounter with Lee and how the big woman had intervened against the King brothers. She noticed his frown as she recounted the confrontation in the alley, but he held his tongue.
"So then when she's there to see my boss on Friday, right out of the blue she asked me to come to dinner." Rhi shook her head. "I thought maybe I heard wrong, but she really meant it." She fell silent, contemplating the unlikely invitation.
"She sounds like a good person," David commented lightly. "You'll probably enjoy a chance to get to know her and her family."
Rhi glanced up and pinning him with her gaze, said defiantly, "She's gay. She lives with her partner and her partner's son." She frowned when the priest just nodded affably and took another sip of his Coke.
"Isn't this where you're supposed to warn me off?" she challenged, not sure why she was pressing the issue.
"Warn you off what? Having dinner with a very nice woman who saved you from a couple of thugs? I suppose I could caution you to check the potato salad twice. You never know with that stuff. Won't touch it myself. I've heard a lot of horror stories about potato salad and ptomaine poisoning. I remember going to a church picnic one time in Fort St. John, and Old Aggie had brought her world famous potato salad. Well, it got left out in the sun too long and darned if it didn't end up sending a dozen people to hospital."
David's tone was tranquil and his body language relaxed. Rhi stared at him in exasperation. He never reacted as she expected he would, and it was frustrating. How do you fight with someone who won't fight back?
"Why are you talking about stupid salad?" she demanded. "Shouldn't you be launching into a sermon about the evils of homosexuality? God knows I've heard Aunt Hettie raving about homosexual offenders not being for the kingdom of heaven often enough."
The priest regarded her mildly. "Well now, I suspect your aunt and I may not agree on a lot of things. She strikes me as woman who adheres more to the letter of the law than the spirit." Sighing he pulled himself upright. "Let me tell you a little story, Rhiannon Davies. Many years ago, before you were even born, I arrived at the seminary as a green and gangling kid, wet behind the ears with hay stalks still sticking out of my hair."
Rhi couldn't help a spontaneous grin at the image and David smiled back. "Yup, I know it's hard to believe I wasn't always the suave and sophisticated man of the world you see before you." The giggle slipped out before Rhi could stop it and she focused her eyes on her Coke can, mentally rebuking herself for falling under his spell. However she continued to listen to his mellifluous voice, drawn unwillingly into the tale spun by a master storyteller.
"I was scared to death. I knew I wanted to be a priest–had known that for as long as I could remember--but I wasn't sure I had what it took. God must have been smiling on me that day because I got assigned quarters with another new seminarian. His name was Conor; and if ever a man was born to be a priest, he was."
David drifted silent and when Rhi peered up at him, she saw a faraway look in his eyes. After a moment, he shook himself and picked up his narrative.
"Conor was beautiful inside and out. It was like his soul was so brilliant it shone right through his skin. Even the strictest of our instructors weren't immune to his appeal. He was a few years older but he took me under his wing. Everything came easily to Conor but he never used that as an excuse to slack off, and he was always ready to help those of us less gifted." Looking ruefully at his companion, David said, "That would definitely include me."
Rhi smiled a little at that and nodded encouragingly.
"I've never been sure if I'd have gotten through seminary without Conor's help, but as it turned out, we were assigned to the same large inner city parish
when we graduated and spent the next couple of years working closely together." David frowned and turned earnestly to Rhi. "He could've been or done anything, you know. If he wanted, he'd be a bishop today, heck, maybe an archbishop, but that wasn't Conor's way. He genuinely felt his calling was working with people in need. He once told me that he'd been torn between a career in medicine or the church."
David paused and, looking down, said sadly, "He should've chosen medicine."
Surprised at the melancholy statement, Rhiannon bluntly demanded, "Why? What happened to him?"
Clucking at her a little for her impatience, the priest smiled. "You read the last page of a book first, don't you?"
"I do not!" Rhi protested, and then admitted contritely, "Well, sometimes." Nudging David, she prodded him to go on.
"Anyway, I was posted to a northern parish after a couple of years, but we stayed close friends. He was my best man when I got married, godfather to my kids, and he helped pick up the pieces when Hannah left me and took the kids back to Halifax."
David suddenly stood and paced back and forth in front of the stoop. Watching him, Rhi could detect anguish in his pale blue eyes. "About four years ago, a brother priest told me that Conor had left the priesthood and that he had AIDs. I couldn't believe it. I took a leave of absence and flew out to the coast. I found Conor on Salt Springs Island, living with a man he'd never mentioned to me. I was so angry. I yelled at him--said things I never meant to say, and he bore it all quietly."
"Why were you angry? Because he was gay?"
David shook his head. "In part, maybe. He was my hero, and everything I wanted to be as a priest and a man. More that that though, I was furious that he hadn't told me when we were as close as brothers."
Rhiannon regarded him steadily and had a sudden flash of insight. "You were scared."
He stared at her for a long moment and then collapsed on the stoop beside her. In a voice so quiet she had to strain to hear him, he said, "Yes. Conor was the one thing in my world I depended on. He was my rock. And now this horrible disease was going to take him from a world that needed him–and from me."