Point Blank (Sisterhood Book 26) (13 page)

“Yeah, yeah, yeah! Can we leave now?”

“I don’t see why not.” Dishbang Deshi dug in his pocket and withdrew a fistful of yen notes and placed them under the teapot. “Slow and easy, everyone, smiles, little waves. A few bows to the waitstaff, and we can go. Walk very slowly, and do not draw attention to yourselves.” No sooner were the words out of Dishbang Deshi’s mouth than Dennis tripped over his own feet and fell forward. A portly little man at the next table acted quickly and stiff-armed him, breaking his fall. Jack pulled him back and upright. Dishbang Deshi stepped forward and let loose with a long string of dialogue that made the round little man smile and nod, then laugh out loud. Dennis winced, knowing he was the butt of some secret Chinese joke, but at the moment he simply did not care. He just wanted to get out of here.

“What did you say to that guy?” Dennis demanded the moment they were back out on the street.

“I said you were a tourist and in need of dancing lessons. Step lively now. We’re almost to the hotel. Did anyone alert those in the hotel as to what happened at the showroom this evening?”

“I did,” Yoko chirped. “Everyone is excited that things are moving so quickly. They’re waiting for us in Myra’s suite. We’re to go straight up. We rented the entire floor, so there is plenty of room for you.”

Dishbang Deshi nodded. “Ah, I see the lights, the Peninsula is just ahead. Step lively, act like you actually belong, and no one will stop you. Walk straight to the elevator and don’t look at anyone.”

The group followed Dishbang Deshi’s directions. As Jack said later, it didn’t look to him like anyone was paying undue attention to them. Yoko agreed. Dennis said he thought the majordomo looked at them a little too long as they made their way to the elevators. They all heaved a sigh of relief when they reached the partially open door to Myra’s suite. They breezed in like a brisk wind. Jack had the presence of mind to turn and lock the door behind him.

Then everyone was talking at once. Alarmed, Dishbang Deshi stepped away from the others as he stared at them, then at Harry. “Who are these people, Harry? All these women! What do you think this is, a garden party?”

“Oh, dear, did that man just say what I think he said?” Annie asked.

“I think he did, dear,” Myra cooed.

Kathryn took a step forward, and when her face was a bare inch from Dishbang Deshi’s, she said, “I think the question should be, who are
YOU
?”

In a nanosecond, Dishbang Deshi was surrounded by women. “How nice. Now we can play ring-around-the-rosy,” Nikki said.

“You might want to stand over there by Ted, kid. This could get real ugly, real fast.” Dennis scurried across the room, where a buffet of food was set up. He was hungry, wanted to eat; but more important, he wanted to know what was going to happen to Harry’s friend Dishbang Deshi. He popped a plump pink shrimp into his mouth and crunched down. Kathryn was a hothead. Nikki could kill with a look. Isabelle looked like she could chew nails and spit rust. Alexis was toying with a long silken cord, stretching it back and forth. Like a garrote. Myra and Annie simply smiled as they closed the circle tighter.

“Harry!” It was a desperate, high-pitched squeal that made Harry laugh out loud. “I warned you back in the showroom, Bang. These women are not your average women. They do not come from Mud Flats, Mississippi. They are . . . um . . . worldly.”

“Are you . . . are you . . . saying they’re . . . killers? My God, what are you mixed up in, Harry? First Jun Yu and now you and these . . .
these people
.”

“They’re extraordinary women, Dishbang Deshi. I know that even here in China you must have heard about the American Vigilantes.”

“Oh, my esteemed husband, such kind words for our little group.” Yoko giggled. “I will reward you later, my precious little dove.” Harry turned five shades of red, pink, and reddish pink and purple pink and pale pink.

Dishbang Deshi took his time, letting his eyes lock on first one woman, then the other, until he completed the circle. He moved slightly to see Harry better before he passed out cold.

The women laughed in delight.

 

D
ishbang Deshi came to with a start, his eyes glazed as he stared up at the circle of women peering down at him. His heart hammered in his chest as he moved his head to seek out his friend Harry. He struggled to sit up but realized there was a heavy foot on his chest. Kathryn’s foot. He held out his hands, palms facing outward in open surrender.

Harry stepped forward until he was between Yoko and Isabelle. He leaned down, stretched out his hand, and pulled his old friend to his feet. Dishbang Deshi started to babble in Chinese. In a nanosecond, Nikki was in his face demanding he speak English. In a voice that could have frozen a leg of lamb, she said, “Let’s hear the magic words. You
will
respect us, women or not. Or”—her voice turned sweeter than honey—“we will take you out right here. If for some ridiculous reason you don’t think that is possible, just ask your friend Harry here what we are capable of.”

“That won’t be necessary.” In a voice that was so fearful, so jittery-sounding, Dishbang Deshi could hardly believe the words coming out of his own mouth. “I’m getting the picture here. You have my apologies, ladies.”

“It’s a wise man who knows when to step up to the plate, Mr. Dishbang. Your apology is accepted,” Myra said smartly. “Now, can we get on with the business at hand?”

“I don’t see why not,” Maggie said as she moved away to stand next to Ted. “Let’s make our plans for the morning, then I really need to get some sleep. This jet lag is doing me in.”

Two hours later, the group had a plan formulated and were about to separate for the night when there was a knock on the door. As one, the group tensed but when a rat-a-tat-tat knock sounded again, Jack knew it was Avery Snowden. He threw the door open wide and stood back.

“Just so you know, the first string is out there. My people are on it, and I’m posting two operatives on this floor, one right outside the elevator and the other one at the stairwell. I can’t be sure, but I think it’s your friend Dishbang Deshi they’re after, not the rest of you. Seeing as how they must have followed you all here, at the very least they are suspicious of the Americans. I spotted them immediately. Surveillance-wise, they are amateurs.

“Any orders, ladies and gentlemen? If not, I’m going to retire for the rest of the night. I’ll be up and ready to go by five o’clock. We’ll convene in the lobby at seven.”

Dennis danced around, first on one foot, then the other. He desperately wanted to ask Snowden if he thought they were safe in going to sleep but didn’t want to appear like a wimp, so he just chewed down on his lower lip and let his stomach curdle at the thought of being murdered in a bed halfway around the world.

He risked a glance at the others. But no one seemed unduly worried, not even Harry, his idol.

The others gathered up their gear and followed Snowden out the door, hotel room card readers in hand. They all agreed to meet in the lobby for breakfast at seven the next morning.

When the door finally closed behind the others, Annie made sure the double lock and chain were in place. Only she, Fergus, Myra, and Charles remained in the suite. Annie’s suite could be accessed through a short hallway off Myra’s suite. There was no need for them to go out into the hallway at all.

“Well, the ball is in motion,” Annie said. “I have to admit, I didn’t think things would move this fast. I always more or less thought of China as being slow for some reason.”

“I think what you mean is sneaky slow, dear,” Myra said. “I will admit I do have a worry, however. What happens to Harry’s friend Dishbang Deshi when we leave in the morning to go on our shopping expedition? No one said whether he’s staying behind or going with Avery. Obviously, if we want to keep our cover intact as far as being tourists, then we cannot be seen with Dishbang Deshi. Which then brings up another question. Was Dishbang Deshi seen with Harry, Jack, Yoko, and Dennis at the café? If he was, then our cover is blown.”

Charles could feel the start of a full-blown migraine coming on. “We have to assume our cover is blown if Snowden is right and the first string is already outside. If that’s the case, then those men have already notified whomever they report to that this is all a plot against China. I’m not liking this one little bit.”

Fergus massaged his temples. Charles was right. “Call Snowden now, Charles. I do not plan to close my eyes until I know
exactly
what’s going on. For all we know, when we wake up, there could be a hundred police down there in the lobby waiting to toss us into one of their stinky prisons. Now, Charles!”

Myra held up her hand to stop Charles. “This might just be a guess on my part, dear, but I rather think Alexis has the matter under control. She did bring her red magic bag of tricks with her. I saw it on the plane. I think in the morning, Mr. Dishbang, also known as Dishbang Deshi to the rest of us, will be someone else entirely. Just another member of the Crescent China Tours group. Annie, do you agree?”

“Of course! Of course! That’s exactly how it will go down. Never mind, Charles. And, Fergus, my darling, do not fret. We ladies have it in hand. I think we’ll say good night now.” Annie gave Fergus such a shove, he literally sailed across the room to the open door that separated the two suites.

“Well then, my dear, I suggest we follow suit and hit the sack,” Charles said as he felt the tension in his neck abate. Perhaps there would be no migraine after all. Unless Myra had other . . .
Don’t go there, Charles,
he warned himself. Then again, Myra did look like she was in a playful mood....

Pegasus had nothing on Charles Martin as he galloped toward the bedroom.

 

 

As was inevitable, morning came to Hong Kong as it always did. To everyone’s dismay, early on the atmosphere was gray with the effects of the heavy pollution that poisoned the air. Doom and gloom in her voice, Maggie announced that things would get brighter when they partook of some good old-fashioned shopping. The others wholeheartedly agreed. They were all down in the lobby well before the appointed hour of seven o’clock.

“We do breakfast just like all tours do,” Maggie announced in her best tourist-guide voice. “I suggest we all do the buffet so we can move along at a good pace. Then we can depart the hotel and head for Nathan Road, where we will shop till noon, have lunch, then shop some more until three thirty, at which point we will head back here to the hotel, partake of high tea, then settle down and discuss the day. Raise your hand if you are in agreement. And by the way, we need to welcome a new member to our group, Mr. Bik Bo. Mr. Bo is from San Francisco. He got stranded somehow, and his tour company shuttled him over to us. So, everyone, a big welcome to Mr. Bik Bo.”

The gang waved with gusto. Mr. Bo grinned, showing twice as many teeth as he had when he was Dishbang Deshi. Mr. Bo also had twice as much hair, a new eye color, and ruddy cheeks, along with ten extra pounds plus two inches more in height. All thanks to Alexis and her red magic bag of tricks.

“Mr. Bo will stay as close to Alexis as possible during our shopping trip. We don’t want him pairing off with any of the guys, so if someone is following us as a group, nothing will cause suspicion. If we’re all good here, then let’s get some breakfast so we have enough energy for all the shopping we’re going to be doing. Ah, I see Mr. Snowden heading our way. Okay, everybody, showtime. Act just like the stupid tourists we’re supposed to be.”

“Nice talk, girl.” Nikki giggled as she walked alongside Maggie, her gaze sweeping the exquisite dining room for anything that appeared out of the ordinary.

“I’m thinking I missed my calling. Maybe I was meant to be a tour guide in my other life.” Maggie lowered her voice, and said, “I’m not seeing anything to cause concern, are you, Nikki?”

“No. But we are inside the hotel. I’m sure things will change once we get outside into the street.”

The quick meal was accompanied by a lot of girl talk and a bit of nibbling while the guys mostly remained silent while stoking down a heavy-duty breakfast. While they chewed and swallowed, their eyes and ears were tuned to anyone who looked like they didn’t belong in the elegant hotel and whatever conversations they could overhear. Surprisingly, most of the conversations they could overhear were spoken in English by tourists like what they were supposed to be.

“No cause for alarm,” was Charles’s assessment. Snowden agreed. “Yet.” Charles followed up with a roguish wink.

And then they were outside waiting for the transportation that would take them to Nathan Road for their shopping excursion. The group separated and climbed into three white hotel vans much like the one that had been assigned to them the night before.

Maggie and Ted plopped on their hats with the huge colored feathers; gave one last, mercifully short speech; and they were on their way.

“Anything, Snowden?” Charles asked as he took his seat next to his chief operative.

“My people are out there. Nothing happened during the night. I just this minute got a text saying our departure was noted, but nothing was done. So that tells me they did not make out Dishbang Deshi, and so far as they are concerned, we’re just a tourist group. At least for now. None of them followed us. I can’t say with any assurance that things won’t change in ten minutes or an hour from now.”

The ride to Nathan Road passed quickly. When the vans stopped to park, Maggie and Ted were the first ones out and waiting, clipboards in hand, the feathers in their hats moving briskly in the foggy breeze.

Even at this early hour, the street was teeming with human flesh. The garish banners in red, gold, and sky blue; the yellow neon signs; the babble of humanity was unlike anything the group had ever seen. It was wall-to-wall people, going wherever they were going. “Keep your eyes on the feathers,” Maggie screamed, to be heard above the prattle.

“This is unbelievable,” Myra said as she was jostled to and fro, her hand tightly grasped in Annie’s.

“I could never live in Hong Kong, much less anywhere else in China,” Annie muttered. “I bet they don’t even know what a hot dog with the works is over here.” Hot dogs were Annie’s favorite food. “I don’t much like rice unless it’s covered in some kind of sauce, and I can take noodles or leave them alone. Fish heads are out, absolutely out, and I could never eat soup with one of them staring up at me.”

“I think I’m getting the picture, Annie. Maybe you should think about opening a restaurant over here.”

Annie, her eyes on the two feathers ahead, gave Myra a poke in the arm. “You don’t like it any more than I do. I’m not seeing anything that looks suspicious, are you?”

“No. Mr. Snowden is bringing up the rear. As they say in all those spy movies you watch, he has our six.”

“Our first stop, people!” Maggie bellowed as she stood on her tiptoes so everyone could see the dancing feather better. “Follow me!” And they did.

Upon entering the rickety-looking workroom that was lined with bolts of cloth stacked to the ceiling, the members of the “tour” group fanned out immediately. There was a single narrow path that led to a measuring room where, by quick count, thirty or so people were working sewing machines while others measured customers. Within seconds, they were surrounded by little men with tape measures hanging from their necks.

There was much bowing and many smiles as Harry rattled off their needs in rapid-fire Chinese. One by one, each of them was paired off with two assistants, who would measure each of them from top to bottom. One man who appeared to be in charge held out his hand. After all, money was the name of the game. Maggie opened her Crescent China Tours bag and withdrew a wad of American money. She looked to Harry to tell her how much she needed to count out.

“It’s just a deposit. One thousand for starters. He’s seeing this group as buying
BIG
. Just so you know, this guy says he creates, that’s the word he is using, for Armani. Spread the word down the line. He said he can even sew a label in whatever he makes that says the designer’s name.”

“Isn’t that illegal?” Maggie asked suspiciously.

“Well, yeah, but this is China. Who are you going to report him to? The police chief is probably his brother or a dear, dear cousin. Take the damn label and be happy about it,” Harry snapped.

From that moment on, it was Christmas morning, the Easter Parade, and the Academy Awards gala until Charles called a halt at the noon hour. “We’re done here, people. Mr. Hua Bo has assured me that all garments will be labeled and sent to the Peninsula no later than ten o’clock tomorrow morning.” He looked over at Maggie and instructed her to pay another three thousand dollars to the man with the glassy eyes. Glassy because he had never had such a successful business day.

Cooper, who had been sitting by the door, reared up and ran to Harry. Time to go.

More bows, more smiles, and the group was once again outside on the main thoroughfare. The air quality, according to Nikki, was even worse than it had been at eight in the morning. They donned their paper face masks and followed Maggie and Ted to a sidewalk restaurant, where they asked for tables inside. A quick lunch of shrimp and dumplings, along with spring rolls and tea, was set before them within minutes.

“Next stop the shoe palace. We get measured, pick out the leather, then we can head back to the hotel.”

The next two hours passed quickly. Money changed hands, and a promise was given to have all the shoes, boots, and slippers delivered to the hotel by ten o’clock the following morning. Another eighteen hundred dollars changed hands.

“The good thing is, the hotel will package everything up and send it out to the farm for us. We won’t have to carry it with us to Macau and on to . . . to our final destination. Abner can sign for it since it will probably get there before we make it home,” Jack said.