Reign of Coins (14 page)

At least the stairs themselves seemed fine, and were made from sturdy oak that had escaped the dry rot I noticed throughout the main floor. As we moved up each floor, the glow from the flashlights briefly illuminated dustier windows than the ones downstairs. The limousine’s parking lights were a dull glow. Its motor idled smoothly, as if the kid was ready to take off at any moment. Thus far we were alone inside the place…I didn’t sense any predatory energy. The greatest danger was having something collapse on us, or falling through an unseen hole.

When we reached the fifth floor, it seemed more complete than anywhere else. Not near as dusty and overrun with cobwebs either. As if someone occasionally had taken pains to maintain it while ignoring the rest of the building, the floors and walls were almost entirely free of holes and other obvious signs of decay and disuse.

Sulyn quickened her pace, and the guards closest to her kept up. She directed one of them to point a halogen beam toward a door at the end of a hallway to our left.

“When we are inside, it should take only a few minutes to get what we came for,” she said, once the rest of us caught up with her again. “I have my grandfather’s and great uncle’s birth dates memorized, as well as the lock’s pattern.”

Then this should be a lickety-split maneuver. That would be good. We were all right for the moment, but my instincts urged me to make sure we didn’t linger too long up inside the building.

Suddenly, Sulyn seemed nervous, fumbling with the door’s key. I sensed it had nothing to do with the building’s creepiness or the possible presence of a
gui
. She’d been here before, perhaps on many occasions as a young girl…. Did something tragic take place in this room, beyond the scope of the personal history she had revealed to us?

“Here, let me help you,” said Alistair, when her hand continued to shake after failing to insert the key.

To my surprise, she allowed him to do it, and a moment later we stepped into the abandoned office of Cheung Yung-fa. The improved housekeeping on the fifth floor was even better in his office. Not immaculate, but only a thin layer of dust covered the desk and row of filing cabinets nearby. Sulyn immediately moved to the closet, where the door sat partially open.

“Hopefully, we are not too late….”

Her words, but definitely my thoughts.

She carefully opened the door fully, the flashlight’s beam revealing nearly an inch of undisturbed dust covering the floor and an old bank safe from near the turn of the previous century.

“Hui Lin…bring the light closer to the safe,” she told the guard standing nearest to her.

Once the numbers on the dial were clearly illuminated, Sulyn worked quickly to unlock the safe. It took three tries to get it right, but as she steadied her breathing and pace the door opened. We all moved closer for a better view.

Lots of documents tied with string were stacked inside, along with a few bundles of letters held together by rubber bands. Also, a few loose bills from currency long outdated, and a rubber stamp with a dried-out inkpad. But no map.

“I don’t see it,” she whispered, worriedly.

Her shoulders began to shake, but then she caught herself. It didn’t mean the storm wasn’t still rolling in…it was just all inside of her now.

“Why does it have to be obvious?”

Alistair gently moved in to where Sulyn had slumped down onto the floor next to the safe as he said this. While Sulyn seemed fixated on a previous image of what she sought, Alistair quickly moved through the tied bundles. In the middle of one was a soft leather square the size of a standard checkerboard.

“Oh, my God—you found it!”

Sulyn’s surprise was matched by my sense of relief. Of course, I had to see the damned thing first in order to be sure. But from where I hovered behind them, I could see intricate details etched in the leather.

“Is this sheepskin?”

“No, Alistair, I believe it’s goatskin instead,” I said, after bending down to where Sulyn held the map.

If it wasn’t the genuine article, then you could call me a monkey’s uncle. I had no doubts about its authenticity. My boy shot me an annoyed look, until Sulyn confirmed that goatskin was a material favored by her ancestors.

“Is there anything else you need from there?” I asked her, motioning to the documents and letters that might mean something to her or her grandfather. “If not, we should be going.”

Once I realized we’d found what we came for, I started to feel queasy. An odd sensation I’ve rarely experienced, at first I didn’t know what to think of it. But then I remembered the last time I experienced such a feeling and what later transpired. Years after the crusades had ended, I was called on to aid the peace efforts between the Order of the Dragon and the Ottoman rulers. It was a terrible failure. Worst of all was the fact I had made bitter enemies amongst the highest leaders of the Dragons. To this day I seriously doubt the blood drinkers among them have ever forgiven me.

And here I was just trying to help. Like my current cursed relationship with the CIA, as soon as things went to shit back then, I wanted out. Permanently. But, not the permanent manner they had in mind.

For years, the famed Drakul—the cruelest menace to mankind I had ever encountered until Hitler—hunted me. He tracked me across Europe and Asia, and only relented when I reached the New World. Whenever close, I could feel him. I later found out he could ‘see’ what I saw through my eyes. When that happened, the strange sensation that visited me in Cheung Yung-fa’s abandoned office was what I experienced.

Someone was looking through my eyes again. Could it be Drakul, having sensed my presence in this extreme corner of the Asian continent? It seemed unlikely he’d have an interest in treasures that won’t promote his eternal bloodsucking existence. But someone else I know could feel much differently about the map’s potential bounty.

Viktor Kaslow? That vile bastard, mother….

“We need to leave now!”

Beyond scaring the holy hell out of Sulyn, her startled guards pulled out semi-automatic handguns and pointed them at me. What fun it would be for them to see bullet wounds form and then heal—unless they all went for kill shots. They would either watch my body die like an apparent ‘normal’ human being, or see it vaporize into thin air. In either case, I’d wake up someplace else in a brand new body that looks just like the one I presently reside within. As for Alistair and Sulyn—and likely her grandfather’s guardian hit men, they’d all be as good as dead.

I know Viktor Kaslow quite well. Based on his exceedingly cruel nature, and what I believe he already knows about me, the next best thing to torturing and killing me slowly is to leave evidence for when I return in the next lifetime…. Evidence of a tortured and murdered son, wife, and Chinese chick who got too close to the Barrow boys.

I had to take my chances.

Ready to be blasted to smithereens in the next few moments, I picked up Sulyn and Alistair and moved them to the office door. I tried to give an explanation in the ancient Cantonese I’m familiar with to the guards, believing they still intended to shoot me at any moment. I doubt seriously my words were helpful…maybe it was my wild gestures to get moving. Whatever it was, it proved effective.

“Run!
We may only have a minute to get to the bottom and out to the cars!”

“What?!
That’s insane, William—”

“No it isn’t, Dad!” I told Alistair, grabbing both his and Sulyn’s arms as I took the lead. “Kaslow’s on his way…if he isn’t here already!”

Maybe it was the creepiness of our dim surroundings as I practically dragged them both down to the main floor. Or, it could’ve been the building’s creaks from having occupants where normally there were none…at least among the living. Whatever the reason, Alistair kept his tongue in check until we were safely out of the building and inside the back of Sulyn’s limousine. I didn’t have to tell her to urge the driver to get us out of there immediately. She handled that part marvelously, and we were speeding down the street before the Lexus had begun to pull out from the parking area.

“What in the
hell
was that all about?” my son demanded, once safely on our way back to the main drive where our hotel was located.

“You need to trust me, Dad,” I said, turning my attention to Sulyn. I forced a smile to try and ease the worry and misgivings clearly written upon her face.

“Find someplace tonight to secure the map. And, as for our planned meeting tomorrow? Don’t say a word of it now. Have a taxi with directions to our rendezvous point meet us outside the place we had lunch today, at the prescribed time we arranged for tomorrow—
don’t
define any of these things in our presence tonight. In fact, don’t say anything. Please, Sulyn…I’ll explain everything to you tomorrow. Simply nod if you understand me.”

She cast a nervous glance toward Alistair before nodding. I probably had just destroyed the fragile beginnings of our friendship—and even the deeper one with my son. But screw it. This was life and death—regardless of whether anyone else could see it or not. People were about to die—
innocent
people. That’s an assured fact when Viktor Kaslow is involved, as I’ve stated before. Hopefully, Sulyn and her family’s employees wouldn’t soon be among those no longer living.

Alistair tried to badger me with questions. But this time I was as silent as a catatonic mime, staring straight ahead until I saw the spot I wanted the driver to drop us off—four blocks from the hotel.

“Now will you tell me what in the hell’s going on?” said Alistair, once we were standing on the sidewalk. “This is beyond frigging crazy, Pops!”

“Do you want to see her among the living again or not?”

“Well, yeah, of course I do—what kind of fucked-up question is that?”

“One that requires you to shut your damned mouth and just trust me!”

Alistair waved to Sulyn and then I grabbed him forcefully by the shoulder and pulled him into the shadows of a commercial bank.

“Don’t say another word—just listen!” I said, hating myself for the stern tone I had to use to make my point. “Kaslow is watching you right now—he sees where we’re at through my eyes. I’m going to try and get us back inside where we’re staying without giving him any more information than he already has!”

At any other time, Alistair’s current befuddled and exasperated facial expression would be worthy of YouTube video star status. Beyond priceless. Thankfully, he kept his lips zipped tight.

None of what happened next was easy, and I had no idea if Kaslow had already figured out where we were by then. Hell, it wasn’t impossible the sick bastard was perched in a nearby upstairs parking garage holding a high-powered rifle pointed at either one of our heads.

I zigzagged back and forth with my son at my side, and used an alley to reach our hotel. I closed my eyes when we approached the front and told Alistair to guide me inside the building and up to our room. Meanwhile, I filled my head with happy thoughts about birds, butterflies, and growing up in Judea—things that actually do make me less stressed, and even bring some joy into my mind.

We stepped off the elevator and a wave of relief washed over me as Alistair announced we had reached our destination. But then he gasped, muttering ‘Oh my God!’ over and over.

I opened my eyes, gasping as well.

The rubber stamp from Cheung Yung-fa’s safe rested inside the gold handle to our door. How the damned thing got there would be anyone’s guess. Regardless, it meant two things at face value: someone outside of Sulyn’s people and us knew we had visited Cheung Yung-fa’s office and found the safe’s contents. They also knew exactly where Alistair and I resided.

Our protected status had ended, leaving us fully exposed. No more places to hide.

Chapter 16

Talk about the ultimate quandary.

Should we immediately leave and take our chances somewhere else? Or, would it be best to quietly enter our room—me only—and move through quickly in an attempt to disarm or destroy anyone lurking inside? In all likelihood, there wasn’t anybody here—that’s the way the old timers like myself would play this type of ‘present at the doorstep’.

For a moment, I just stood there, while my son kept mouthing ‘What in the hell do we do now?’ Granted, there were panicked vocal inflections to go with this, but I scarcely noticed. I was too busy thinking about who was involved and what this could mean—in every scope of possibilities.

“Shhhh!”

“But, Pops—”

“No!
... I need to think for a moment.”

Really, I didn’t need to think any longer about anything. I knew what had to be done. Leaving the floor could easily set us up for an ambush by whoever had left the surprise on our doorknob. The way the antique stamp was precariously balanced upon the handle told me it had been delicately and purposely placed. Logic said whoever did this wasn’t inside the room, and the likelihood of an explosive linked to the door was remote. No one I knew would leave a booby trap so blatantly obvious.

“Wait here,” I mouthed silently, pressing my forefinger against my kid’s lips to keep him from saying anything else.