Chapter 6

I had no contact with either Wendy or Sandra for the next couple of weeks, even with Wendy working in the next building over. I recognized right away that Sandra had made a good point; we had to be careful about meeting too often. I was quite anxious to know if Sandra had managed to dig up any more information, but all I could do was bide my time and wait.

In the few days following our get-together, a thought kept popping into my mind. How did I know I could trust Sandra? I'd just met her, and I was in the midst of a setting where nothing was as it seemed. The one stabilizing individual was Wendy; she'd certainly proven herself to me. I decided to adopt the viewpoint that if Wendy trusted Sandra, I would, too. My sixth sense chipped in with the opinion that I was paranoid, and that Sandra was a kind, well-meaning woman who was looking out for Wendy and me.

Hell, I needed every ally I could find, because one Monday afternoon in mid-December, everything changed.

A messenger approached me at work and handed me a sealed letter. It informed me that I was to report to Mr. Choi's office at nine o'clock the following morning. Uh oh, I groaned inwardly. I'm in deep shit now. I'll bet they planted a bug in my place, after all, and he knows what we talked about that evening.

At quitting time, no sooner had I left the building than I was corralled by Wendy. "Sandra," was her one-word offering. She led me over to a old, dented car with an idling engine parked along the curb, and motioned for me to get inside. I was surprised to see Sandra in the driver's seat.

"This is your car?" I asked Sandra.

"It gets me from point A to point B," she laughed. "And if we meet this way, that chip of yours doesn't give us away. For all the triad knows, you're standing next to the street, waiting for your regular transportation. But never mind about that. Wendy has some not-so-good news to share. She was summoned to meet with Mr. Choi at nine o'clock tomorrow."

I was thunderstruck at this revelation, and stammered out a reply. "S-so was I!"

Now, it was Sandra's turn to appear shocked. "He fancies seeing both of you together? Isn't that interesting!"

"What do you think it means?" I wondered in a low voice. "Any theories?"

"It's hard to say," Sandra offered immediately. "But you know what? In general terms, I'm thinking that this is about bringing the two of you closer together, just as I suspected."

At the time, I couldn't have imagined just how right she was.

The next morning, a driver picked me up outside the warehouse. I got in the car to find Wendy already inside. She'd been picked up first. Somehow, I found it immensely comforting that we'd be entering Mr. Choi's office together. It sure beat going alone.

The driver escorted us into the lobby of the office building, and signed us in with the receptionist. By now, I knew the routine. Upstairs, he knocked on Mr. Choi's office door, and then stepped aside to permit us to enter. Today, the boss had a particularly unctuous grin on his face. I was a little unsettled to note that the single chair facing him had been replaced by a loveseat, with a plain red background directly behind it. He instructed Wendy and me to sit down together, and then looked back and forth at each of us with an insufferably smug expression. I wanted to wipe it from his face.

"I'll address you first, Mr. Benson. Before I detail our plans for you, let me ask you a simple question. Do you miss your wife?"

He couldn't possibly have taken a cheaper shot. "Damn right I do," I snarled. "What the hell do you expect?" Then, an awful thought crossed my mind, and I stood up and shot a murderous look at Mr. Choi. "You haven't harmed her in some way, have you?"

I actually saw Mr. Choi flinch, but only for a split second. "No, we have not. Please have a seat. Rest assured that we will not cause her any harm. She is of no concern to us." He took a deep breath, as I reluctantly sat down; that same slick grin began to take shape upon his face. "Now, back to our plans. For the most part, Mr. Benson, you have not been a disciplinary problem since arriving here in China. I commend you for that, and you should consider yourself lucky, because we've decided to actually reward you. You say you miss your wife. What if I told you we have found another wife for you?"

"I'd say, go to hell. I'm very happy with the one I have, thank you."

"Excuse me, Mr. Benson, but let me point out that you are very much a single man."

"How the hell can you – " I shut up, for I'd figured out where he was going with this.

Mr. Choi's slippery smirk never wavered. "Might I remind you that your name is Roger Benson. Mr. Benson is an unmarried gentleman who has never enjoyed the special companionship that a loving and devoted wife provides. In this country, arranged marriage is very much the rule in some parts. We have arranged for you to take a most desirable young lady for your bride. In fact, she is seated right next to you. I believe the two of you are already well acquainted." His words, per usual, were dripping with sarcasm.

"Are you out of your f– " I shouted, before the sudden appearance of a firearm-wielding man, striding into the office from a hidden door, persuaded me to put a zipper on my mouth.

Mr. Choi appeared to ignore my outburst. "You should consider yourself lucky to be taking a Chinese bride, Mr. Benson. I can assure you that she will be hard-working, obedient, and quite generous with her favors."

I'm an even-tempered guy, most of the time. But following that comment, I wanted to hit him; I really did. Only the presence of an armed thug kept me from following through. Then, it was Wendy's turn to hear about the scheme. Mr. Choi addressed her in Mandarin, and when he was finished, Wendy gave me a sideways glance, wearing an open-mouthed look of astonishment. She began to direct a stream of angry words at Mr. Choi, but wisely opted for silence as the newcomer brandished his gun.

The boss reached into his desk, and produced two large envelopes. "All of your required documents are here," he said to me. "Shortly, two of my associates will accompany you downtown, where you will apply for your marriage certificate. Once it is issued, you will legally be husband and wife. Both of you are excused from your jobs for the rest of the day. For your marital home, you will be assigned a more substantial dwelling than either of you have at present. You will be moved into that residence later today. You may consider your new home a wedding gift for the happy couple." He then leaned back in his seat slightly and let out a haughty laugh, before standing up to open an inconspicuous closet near the rear of the office. Out came a couple of garment bags; one was handed to each of us.

"Open up the bags, and change into the clothes you've been given," instructed Mr. Choi.

"Here?" I blurted out.

Once again, Mr. Choi replied with a derisive laugh. "We don't have changing facilities here, Mr. Benson. Strip down, both of you, and get changed. We don't have all day." He directed a few words toward Wendy, presumably repeating the demand.

What kind of fucked-up scene is this, anyhow? I thought as rage again began to build within me. I approached Choi's desk, put both of my hands down on the wooden surface, and glared right into his weaselly face. "Do you have a blanket, or something like that, so the lady can at least preserve a little modesty?"

To my immense surprise, Mr. Choi spoke calmly to the man standing nearby, who stepped outside for a moment. When he returned, he was holding a folded-up sheet. Still glaring at Choi in disgust, I directed Wendy to stand in the corner of the office. I unfolded the sheet, and held it up in front of her. I pinned it to the two adjacent walls with my thumbs and the palms of my hands, enveloping Wendy in the process, giving her a tiny makeshift dressing area. I looked the other way as she got changed.

I didn't bother with the sheet myself. Wendy averted her eyes as I put on the clothes I'd been given: a plain black suit with a matching black tie and a white dress shirt. There was also a pair of well-polished black shoes. I was amazed to discover that everything fit me reasonably well.

As for Wendy, she had on a light blue blouse, a blue and white floral print skirt, and white pumps with heels. She was given a mirror and a brush to fix up her hair. Although you'd never mistake her outfit for a wedding gown, I had to admit that she looked very pretty.

Two more men then burst into the room, and the loveseat was taken away. Wendy and I were ordered to stand together in front of the red background. A camera appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and Mr. Choi himself did the honors. He snapped off three pictures of the two of us. Then, he handed the camera to one of his subordinates, who left the room.

What the hell was all that about, I wondered. I knew I'd find out soon enough.

The subordinate returned about five minutes later, carrying three photo prints. I watched as Mr. Choi casually dropped the photos in one of the two envelopes which supposedly contained our supporting documents. He then dispensed with his final orders regarding today's upcoming adventure.

"You will be driven to a local government office by these two men. These are trusted and capable associates of mine who will not hesitate to react forcefully should either of you not follow my orders. Remember, Mr. Benson, you possess a tracking device. Should you make a run for it, we will apprehend you in short order, and you will be dealt with severely.

"You will be dropped off at the front door to the building. At that point, you will be handed these envelopes. You will proceed straight to the official to submit your application. While you are in the building, you will act like a couple in love so as not to arouse any suspicion. You will hand the official your paperwork, and wait for it to be processed. When you receive the marriage certificate, you will immediately place it in one of the envelopes. You will proceed outside at once, where my associates will be waiting for you. You will hand them the two envelopes, and they will be checked to ensure that all of their contents are accounted for. You will then be transported back here." He followed up by giving the same spiel to Wendy. One thing about Mr. Choi: he didn't aspire to the "ladies first" doctrine.

"Do you have any final questions?" he asked me when he was finished.

"No, boss," I replied sarcastically, and we were on our way.

Envelopes in hand, Wendy and I entered the local government office. Now, I was completely lost; I was reliant on Wendy to be my guide. Mindful of the directive that we comport ourselves as lovers, Wendy was pressed up against my side, her hand softly gripping the inside of my elbow.

Here I was, about to be married to a woman who was not my wife. How fucked up was that? I was about to become a bigamist! Oh, Erin, I thought, having an imaginary conversation with my wife. Everything that's happened up till now, I can explain. But I know you'd have trouble with this. Please understand; I'm being forced to do it.

Feeling nervous and guilty at once, I took my place alongside Wendy in front of the official when we were called up. We handed over our documents. I frantically looked around ... there was no way out! I took a glance at the contents of my envelope. There was the fake passport belonging to "Roger Benson." There was a notarized letter, obviously forged, from the US consulate stating that Roger Benson had never been married. Good grief! Everything about my existence here was bogus. I wondered what would happen if they determined the documents were fake. And would it necessarily be a bad thing if they did?