The Killing Hands (40 page)

Ling smiles. “I'm going to enjoy this. I understand from my research that you both study kung fu.”

I don't wait for the formalities normally observed in tra
ditional kung fu fighting. I strike. I keep it simple and sharp, going for a low side kick to Ling's knee. He checks the kick by effortlessly picking up the target leg so my strike lands on his shin, which is rock hard, even harder than Sifu Lee's shins. Luckily I used the hard, side part of the sole of my foot and there's no serious pain, but I certainly don't want to make contact with Ling's shins again if I can avoid it.

“It's not really fair, I know,” he says, repositioning himself backward slightly so he can target both Young and me, “given you're both injured.”

“It's two against one, Ling, don't be so cocky.” Young does a fast side step toward Ling and delivers a side kick like mine, but his is aimed higher, at Ling's ribs.

Ling uses a lower gate block to deflect the kick. “Time to get down to business.” He targets Dan first, delivering a powerful and super-fast combination of strikes and kicks. As Dan's on the defense, I'm on the offence, but Ling's superior skill is able to keep me at bay with a few well-timed strikes while he keeps the pressure on Young. At least Ling hasn't gone for any
dim mak
strikes…yet.

My adrenaline kicks in, and the searing pain in my left shoulder from all the movement begins to subside. That, and the sight of Dan wavering, sends my senses into overdrive. But instead of lunging at Ling, I accept the inevitable and go for the gun. No sense fooling myself—Ling's better than me by a long shot, even if I was uninjured. My gun's only twenty yards away, but that's a long way against an opponent like this. Ling's better than me and Young put together and in top form.

I hear Ling's footsteps behind me, at least giving Dan a break. I only make it just over half the distance before I feel the weight of Ling as he launches himself at me. I come to the ground with a thud, Ling on top of me. I brace the fall by putting my arms out, with my fists clenched and arms bent so I'm taking the impact on my forearms, not on my hands, which would snap my wrists clean. Even so, our combined weight overshadows my adrenaline surge and I scream in pain as my wounded shoulder jolts from the
impact. I try to scramble forward when Ling gets off me. I can see the gun, it's only a few yards away. But he starts to hit me and I have to abandon the gun to defend myself. I curl into a ball, fetal position, fists clenched and arms protecting my head so any kicks or strikes will hit the bony part of my forearm. At the same time, I peer around my arms and look for any openings in Ling's defenses. He comes to standing and is close enough for me to bring him toppling down. I quickly anchor his ankle with my left foot and kick at his knee with all my might with my right leg. He was on the move backward to escape the leg lock, but I did make contact and I can tell from an ever-so-slight wince on his face that it wasn't exactly pain-free. A small victory, I suppose.

Dan's moving toward us, but he's in no condition to fight—not for much longer anyway. Even so, he brings his guard up and delivers a roundhouse kick. It comes quickly enough after my own kick that it catches Ling off guard. While Ling regroups, I commando-crawl toward the gun. It's at my fingertips when I hear the unmistakable crunch of bone breaking and a yelp of pain. I hope it's Ling. I know it's more likely Dan.

I don't look back, instead I grasp the gun, rolling as my fingers close around its butt. I wind up on my back, gun pointing toward the incoming figure of Ling.

As he leaps onto me, I fire four shots.

My aim's off, affected by the pain in my shoulder and the fact that I didn't have enough time to properly prepare. But even so, one shot hits Ling in the neck. He lands on top of me, his eyes wide. I quickly roll him off me and scramble to my feet.

Young's on the ground, not moving, and Ling's rolling around in agony and bleeding, but still alive. I doubt even he would be able to slow his pulse now. Keeping my eyes and gun trained on Ling, I back up to Dan and kneel down beside him.

“Dan?” I say, glancing at him for a second.

He manages a grunt. I take a second quick look at him.
His face is bloodied and bruised, and even from this angle I can tell his elbow's badly broken.

I grab my BlackBerry and call 911, just as I hear the sirens and then see the flashing blue of an LAPD patrol car.

I
check Dan's pulse. It's extremely slow, especially given he's just been fighting for his life. Ling must have attacked at least one of the
dim mak
points. I think back to my
dim mak
reading and how to reverse an attack on the parasympathetic nervous system…I need to apply pressure to one of the points that stimulates the sympathetic nervous system. That'll get his heart rate and blood pressure back up. It's also possible Young suffered a
dim mak
knockout. But first, I go for a carotid massage in case Ling used the pressure points that will induce a fatal heart arrhythmia. I rub the side of Young's neck, hard, hoping I've caught him in time.

An LAPD officer rushes out of the car and toward me, gun out and pointed at me, his partner quickly coming to his side.

“I'm FBI,” I shout as I place my gun slowly on the pavement next to Young. “Let me get my ID.” I slowly reach my right hand inside my jacket and pull out my ID. The cop comes closer to examine it and his trigger finger relaxes.

“We've got a DEA agent down here. I've just called 911.”

“Okay.” They take the information in quickly.

“That's our suspect.” I motion my head toward Park Ling. “Be careful, he's dangerous even in that condition.”

One officer trains his gun on Ling, but keeps his distance, while the other bends down to me. “Is he going to be okay?”

I don't bother explaining
dim mak
—it'd take too long and be met with too much skepticism. Instead, I just say, “I think so.”

“I'll radio for a second ambulance.”

I nod, and move from Young's carotid artery to gall bladder 20, a pressure point on the back of his head, near the base of his skull.

I look up at Ling—he's losing a lot of blood. “You better apply pressure,” I say to the officers.

One of them applies pressure to the throat wound, while the other keeps his gun on Ling. After a minute, I check Dan's pulse and notice it does seem to have increased somewhat.

He moans, coming around. “Pressure-point knockout?” he manages. He's definitely with it now.

“I think so.” Many of the
dim mak
points cause an instant faint or knockout, and according to the medical explanation it's a vasovagal faint, caused by a sudden drop in blood pressure.

“Where is he?”

“Down. Shot.”

Young nods. “Good.” He pushes himself to sitting and looks around, clutching his elbow in pain. He winces. “Man, this hurts.”

“An ambulance is on its way.”

He nods, but the wince doesn't go away. It will hurt even more when his adrenaline wears off.

“I also did a quick carotid massage, in case he targeted other heart points.”

Young gives me a weak smile. “Thanks. I think I'll go to a Chinese doctor in the next few days, just to be on the safe side.”

The first ambulance arrives and as much as I want the paramedics to check out Young first, now that he's conscious he has to be their second priority. Ling's bleeding, profusely, and if they don't control it quickly he'll die. So
even though the paramedics are directed to us first, Young sends them over to Ling.

“Was Mee okay the last time you saw her?”

“Yes.” Young's face crumples. “But I've got no idea where she is now—or if she's all right.” He pauses. “I know what this is about now.”

“Suzuki's sister,” I state.

Young furrows his brow. “I don't know anything about Suzuki's sister, but I know Suzuki's running drugs on the side, skimming a large chunk off of Moto's business.”

“So he doesn't know you're DEA?”

Young shakes his head. “No. But I overheard him talking to his driver about how the Feds were getting close, had names of hit men, and that they needed to secure their source and isolate her from Moto.”

“Her?” I notice that this time the gender of the mole has been revealed. “Hana?”

Young shrugs. “I still don't know.”

It has to be Hana. If Suzuki knew we had the hit man's name, it can only be Hana or Williams, and with the gender confirmed…

“Damn.” I drop my head. “Why'd it have to be Hana?” I like…liked Hana. Even though the evidence implicated her, I couldn't bring myself to believe that Hana was capable of betraying us and the law. Obviously she's a better actor than I thought.

“Sorry,” Young says.

I blow out a heavy sigh and the deep breath sends a sharp pain across my shoulder. By fighting Ling I've undone some of the past two and a half weeks of healing and I can feel it.

“How is he?” I ask the paramedics lifting Ling into the ambulance.

“He's lost a ton of blood, but he should make it.”

I give the paramedic a nod.

The second ambulance arrives just as the first drives away. When Agent Dan Young is safe and sound on his way to hospital, I take stock. Mee Kim is still being held in an unknown location and Suzuki is still at large. And I know
Ling's not going to be the most cooperative suspect, either. Of the few hit men in his league that have been apprehended, all have maintained their code of silence. Some have admitted to crimes, talked about their life even, but none have given up their end employers. Park Ling will be no different. It's up to us to find Mee Kim and Suzuki.

Ling had thirty thousand dollars in cash on him, in a yellow envelope inside his jacket pocket. The cash will be examined by forensics and hopefully Suzuki handed it to Ling personally. At least then we'll have another round of evidence for charging and convicting Suzuki of contracting the murder of a federal agent. At the moment, Suzuki's at home, oblivious to the fact that Ling's attempt to kill Marcus/Agent Dan Young has failed…oblivious to the fact that I was in the alleyway with a gun and able to even up the odds.

A couple of minutes after the second ambulance heads off, De Luca and Hana arrive.

“Are you okay?” Hana asks.

“Fine.” I can't look at her. “I shot Ling. He's on the way to hospital now.”

De Luca eyes me carefully. “Did the paramedics take a look at you?”

“Yeah. I'm okay.” Well, sort of. They said I need to take it easy, maybe come in to get an X-ray to check my ribs, but I know what a cracked rib feels like and mine are just bruised, not broken.

De Luca shakes his head. “I know it's sexist but a woman with a black eye just never looks right to me.”

“And a man does?” Hana asks.

He shrugs. “Guess you're right.”

I bend down into the nearest car's side mirror. It's a beauty, all right. Man, that's going to take a lot of foundation in the morning. Thank goodness my parents are back in Australia and never need to hear about this. Guess I'll tell them I shot Ling, but I don't have to tell them I got a shiner and bruised ribs in the process. Not to mention the dozen or so other bruises I know I'll have all over my arms and legs in the morning and the renewed pain in my shoulder blade. But first things first.

“De Luca. Mind if I have a word? It's about Petrov.” I lead him away from Hana and make sure my back's to her. “Agent Young was here. Ling tried to kill him.”

“What? Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he's fine. Couple of broken bones but the paramedics have taken him to hospital, too.”

De Luca nods, the relief evident on his face.

“There's one other thing.”

“Yes?” He runs his hand over his head.

“Young wasn't able to confirm who the leak is, but it is a woman.”

De Luca glances at Hana. “Damn it.” His jaw tenses.

It's going to be hard on De Luca—Hana's his ex-partner.

“I know.” I look at my shoes. “And Suzuki knew that we had names of possible hit men.”

“Okay, thanks, Anderson.” He stares into the distance. “I rang Petrov.”

“And?”

“He's pissed with you…though I imagine he'll be less pissed when he finds out you saved Agent Young's life.”

“Guess I evened the score.”

De Luca smiles. “Yeah.” He starts walking toward Hana but keeps his voice low. “Petrov's organizing simultaneous raids on both properties known to have housed Mee in the past, as well as the Long Beach house the Asian Boyz have been using to produce meth, and Suzuki's home address.”

“But we don't think Mee's at any of those places, do we?”

“Probably not, no.”

I sigh. At least Dan's been able to confirm that Mee was alive and well only hours ago.

“Everything okay?” Hana asks once we're back within earshot.

I force a half grimace, half smile. “Apparently I'm in trouble. For coming here when I'm not supposed to be on active duty.”

“But you got Park Ling. Surely Petrov can't be that pissed.”

I shrug. “We'll see.” My phone rings, unknown caller ID. “Agent Anderson.”

“Agent Anderson, this is Mee Kim.”

“Mee? Where are you, Mee? Are you okay?” I ask.

De Luca and Hana both look at me, eyes wide. I nod and mouth the word “Mee.”

“I'm okay. I'm calling from a payphone in…” She trails off. “I don't know where I am.” Her voice breaks.

“That's okay, Mee. What's the payphone number?”

“Um…5–6-2–4-5–1-6–8-9–8.”

“Okay, got it.” I scribble down the number and repeat it back to Mee, just to make sure. “Stay near the phone, Mee, but out of sight if you can. I'll be there soon.”

“Okay.”

Once Mee's off the line, I ring the FBI switch and get routed through to the tech area. “It's Agent Anderson here. Can you please give me an address for this payphone number?” I repeat the number and wait on the line until I get the answer.

“She's in Lakewood. On South Street near Bellflower Boulevard,” I say.

De Luca looks me up and down. “I'll drive. You come with us.”

No need to take two cars, and he's right—driving isn't exactly going to be easy or pain-free for me, at least for another couple of days.

Half an hour later we see the payphone on South, just before Bellflower. De Luca waits in the car while Hana and I linger by the payphone. We're only there for a few seconds when I see Mee crossing the road toward us.

I draw my gun, just in case she's not alone, and Hana follows suit. When Mee's this close, the last thing we want is for her to be snatched or shot right in front of us and I have to keep my eye on Hana as well as my surroundings.

Once Mee's in the car, I put my gun back in its holster and climb in next to her. “You okay?” I ask.

She nods, but I can see the fear in her eyes. She's a different woman from the Mee Kim I met a couple of weeks ago. Her hands rest in her lap and she looks down at them.

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have run. It's just…when you told me about Jun Saito…”

“You realized he must have been your father?”

She nods. “Yes.”

“Why didn't you call us?”

“I thought maybe
Omma
had done something wrong. Something illegal. I was scared…of you and the Yakuza.” She shakes her head. “I needed time to think, time to find out exactly what my mom's role was in all of this. But then they found me. At first it was okay. A man called Tomi Moto told me that they were concerned for my safety and that Jun Saito was my father and had been his friend. He seemed…honorable. And Marcus checked in on me…he seemed nice and I trusted him. But then yesterday everything changed. Another man, someone I hadn't met before, came and told Marcus there'd been a change of plans. That Mr. Moto wanted to move me again. We went with him, but when Marcus was getting in the car the man's bodyguard hit Marcus over the head and blindfolded and drugged me. When I woke up I was locked in a caged room in a basement. Marcus was gagged and bound, tied to a chair, and I was chained to the wall by a foot iron. Then they took Marcus away….” She looks down at her hands.

“Marcus is alive.” At this stage I presume Young won't be trying to resume his cover in the Yakuza as “Marcus Miki,” but I still use his false name—for both Mee and Hana.

“Really? I know—I know he's Yakuza, but he was nice.”

“He's in hospital with a few broken bones, but he's going to be okay.”

She nods. “He was different from the others. Like he was really looking out for me.”

Maybe Young wasn't doing such a good acting job, or maybe just not around Mee Kim.

After a few moments of silence I say, “Then what happened?”

“They left me with a woman.” She hangs her head. “I saw the opening and took it. I hit her…hard.”