Chapter 17

The repercussions from that unforgettable Saturday night took several days to even begin to come into focus. During the following week, Wendy and I were bombarded with intrusions upon our spare time. As promised, we gave our statements to the police. We were key participants in a rather large and well-attended press conference. The Chinese media was all over our little adventure. I speculated that perhaps the government was eager to publicize the apparent demise of the triad. Truth be told, I could have done without the publicity. Wendy, of course, had to speak on our behalf at the press conference; it was conducted in her native tongue. She handled that assignment with grace and poise. I was so proud of her.

Michael met with us at my place the following Monday after work. He told us up front that he would be unable to share too many details with us. "You know how it is," he told us. "Protocol must be followed. Rick Yeung from the US consulate will be in touch with you, and he'll tell you as much as he can."

Wendy and I, of course, were chomping at the bit for news about Sandra, and begged to be allowed to visit her. Michael was able to relate that she had asked repeatedly about us, and that she sent along her love. He affirmed that if he had the authority to arrange a visit, he would have done so. Sandra had been hospitalized for two nights following her rescue and, having gotten a clean bill of health, had just been released earlier in the day. Blessedly, she proved to be physically unharmed following that long ordeal. How she would hold up mentally in the long run was anyone's guess. Her time in captivity had been somewhat longer than mine – nearly two and a half years – and her isolation had been much more all-encompassing than mine had. In addition, both of Sandra's ailing parents had passed away during her prolonged absence, so she had that to deal with too. The whole awful experience might have consumed many people, but Michael put it into perspective. "I have a hunch Sandra will be just fine," he assured us. "She's a strong woman."

The current plan was for Sandra to be whisked away to a distant, undisclosed, part of China until she was deemed to have fully put the experience behind her. There had been some thought given to sending her back to England, but Sandra herself had nixed that idea. According to Michael, she'd grown quite indignant when that possibility was entertained; stating in no uncertain terms that she belonged in China, and here she would stay.

When I heard that, I knew ... Michael was right. Sandra was a survivor, and would come through all of this unscathed.

In the meantime, Wendy and I had our usual daily responsibilities to wade through. She had her job and her education; I had my teaching position. One day, a student of mine approached me after class, and directed a tough question at me. Thanks to the media coverage, the entire class had heard about the rescue operation.

I had asked my students to call me by my first name; "Gustafson" is quite a tongue twister for Chinese children. "Mr. Jake," said the boy, in English, "are you a hero?"

I smiled at this innocent yet pressing query, and took a moment to formulate my answer. "All I did was to help a friend in trouble. And it wasn't just me. Others were there to help too." I repeated my reply in my rapidly improving Mandarin, just to make sure he got the gist of it.

The boy's expression turned thoughtful as he considered my words. "I helped a friend the other day," he finally offered.

"Tell me about it."

"My friend in math class got in trouble for talking while the teacher was speaking. I told him later that he shouldn't do that. Then, I went with him to see the teacher, and we talked about why it's important to pay attention in class."

"That means," I smiled, "that you are just as much of a hero as me."

A little over a week later, at the end of the school day, I drove into Chengdu for a late afternoon meeting at the consulate with Rick Yeung. "I apologize for making you wait this long before briefing you on the situation," said Rick. "It took us up til now to ferret out the entire story. And as usual, we have rules and procedures to follow."

By then, I knew Rick well enough to kid around with him a little. "In other words, bureaucracy at its finest," I grinned.

Rick laughed mildly. "Yeah, you might say that. But I'll tell you what I know. Sandra spent the entire duration of her captivity – two and a half years – in the Chongqing area. Following her initial abduction, it stood to reason that they would want to remove her from the immediate area, and that's what happened. They never had any intention of killing her; because of her background, the consequences would have been enormous. Instead, she was forced to work in an assembly-line kind of warehouse, just as you were for a while. The conditions there, as I understand it, were quite a bit worse than what you experienced."

"How so?" I inquired with a grimace.

"Well, the triad bigwigs were well aware of Sandra's resourcefulness, and labeled her a major flight risk. The warehouse in which she worked was staffed with numerous other folks in similar situations. As a result, the building was kept under lockdown during the entire workday. At the end of each day, she was escorted to her assigned residence, which was nearby. She shared it with two other women. It wasn't much of a residence – it amounted to a prison cell with three beds, a bathroom, and a small kitchen. The three of them were locked inside overnight, and not released until the start of the next workday. They was given a weekly allotment of food, which of course they had to pay for. The entire area – the warehouse and a number of similar residences – was surrounded by a wall topped with barbed wire. Opportunities for escape were, quite simply, nonexistent. It was, in almost every sense, a maximum-security prison."

Rick then paused for a moment to allow this awful tale to sink in. Yes, I suppose it could have been worse. Even so, I was justifiably horrified at what he had told me so far. Sandra had done so much for us, and sadly, her selflessness and generosity had been a direct cause of this two-and-a-half-year ordeal. It was obvious that I hadn't heard the whole story yet, and I feared the worst was yet to come.

"How did she end up in the suite underneath Wu's mansion?" I finally put forth.

"I was getting to that. About a year after her abduction, Wu made a random visit to the warehouse where she worked. He spotted Sandra, and realized she wasn't your average human trafficking victim. We know that she is feisty, educated, and Westernized, and as a result, he became smitten with her. He immediately had her moved into that suite under his house, where she became, more or less, his concubine." Rick hesitated for a second, before adding, "And apparently, with all that entails."

With this disclosure, I inhaled sharply. As far as I was concerned, life in prison was insufficient punishment for Wu's transgressions.

"Sandra played along with it," Rick went on, "because her continued safety depended upon it. She had no other recourse. She was kept locked in that large room where you found her, except for when Wu happened to be there as well. He frequently entertained guests in that suite; on those occasions, Sandra was forced to play the role of a maid. Aside from this, she had no contact with the outside world. She was forced to wear traditional Chinese clothes at all times, which explains her attire when you arrived on the scene. You saw yourself that escape would have been impossible for her, given that the suite was fully underground. The only egress was the route you followed to access the suite."

I nodded, not liking what I'd heard, but not surprised by it, either. "What about that Wu character? What happened to him?"

A satisfied smile appeared on Rick's face. "You know that they nabbed him outside while you were rescuing Sandra. He's looking at a long time in prison – a very long time. He's no longer a threat to anyone."

"So, can we assume that the triad itself is no longer a threat?"

"Jake, ever since you first talked about coming back to China, I've been warning you to be careful. In fact, back in the beginning, I advised you to stay away because of the triad threat. Right?"

"Yes, you did."

"I'm now changing my tune. You – and Wendy, too – no longer have reason to worry about the triad. They've been defeated. The evidence that was found in that suite led to a number of key arrests. Quite simply, there is no one left with the degree of influence it would require to raise the triad from the ashes. So, go ahead and live the life you want to live, with no fear of recrimination. I would only suggest the normal amount of caution that is prudent for any expat."

I flashed a cautious smile; there were two more pressing issues which I wanted to clear up. "What about Sam? Did you make any inquiries about him?"

Rick nodded in assent. "It turns out that Sam was involved in a rather long list of unseemly activities. He also flat-out refused to provide any information about other elements of the triad. For that reason, they won't be inclined to go easy on him, and he too is looking at a long prison term."

"One more potential major problem to cross off our list. And finally, what about Choi? What was his story? What happened to him?"

"His tale is quite fascinating. When you were set free during the first big bust a couple of years ago, Choi just barely managed to escape. On his own, he slipped out of China and took up residence in Thailand. He created a new identity, and settled anonymously within the urban sprawl of Bangkok. He managed to gain access to his previously accumulated personal wealth, and apparently spent a good deal of it on the courtesans and bar girls of Bangkok. Much of Mr. Choi's thought process, it seems, originates in his male organ."

At that, I just had to laugh. "You have a way with words, Rick. How did he find his way back to China?"

"After about a year and a half of screwing his way through the Bangkok sex industry, his rather substantial monetary reserves began to dwindle down. He heard through the grapevine that the triad was back in business, and he put out some feelers to Wu. Now, Wu was unaware of Choi's checkered past – it had somehow been kept quiet – and he restored him to his former position. Choi assumed the Feng Duan identity and returned to China.

"Saturday a week ago, when you, Wendy, and half of the local police force paid him a visit, he was 'spending time' with one of his mistresses at her place. His gunshot wound turned out to be fairly minor, and his young lady friend was unharmed in the shootout. He was arrested on a number of charges. Since then, quite a few other transgressions of his have come to light. Among them is this little item you'll find interesting ... at long last, he's been charged with masterminding the murder of Roger Benson. A couple of his former subordinates decided to speak up and implicate him. On top of that, evidence was found within Wu's suite that further cements the case against him. My legal connections have assured me that it's extremely unlikely that Choi will ever experience freedom again in his lifetime."

With that last matter settled, I finally allowed myself to take a deep breath. "Thanks for your help, Rick. I really appreciate it. Having said that, here's hoping that's the last of it."

For the first time since we'd met each other, Wendy and I no longer had to go through life looking over our shoulders. We spent as much time together as we could. Months passed, and winter arrived to run its course. My beloved grew ever closer to receiving her much-cherished degree. I was, at long last, offered a permanent teaching position, which I eagerly accepted. Lo and behold, I was now a full-fledged expat.

As winter began to transition into spring, a most welcome development transpired. Sandra, having gotten a clean bill of health in both body and mind, returned to our midst. She was offered assistance in relocating anywhere her heart desired, but she elected to come back to Sichuan province. She was offered the same position she'd held previously at the university, and moved into a spacious new apartment. "Even in the darkest hours of my captivity," Sandra said to Wendy and me when we first visited her at her new place, "there was no doubt in my mind I wanted to come back here. This is where my life is, and I'm not about to let those buggers from the triad take it away from me." It goes without saying that that first get-together was a joyous occasion, filled with hugs, laughter, and more than a few tears of happiness.

Michael, meanwhile, surprised us by deciding to stay in China for the time being, accepting a new assignment at the British consulate in Chongqing. I had figured that once his previous assignment ended, he'd waste no time in heading back to England. That assumption proved to be wrong, however. On more than one occasion, Wendy and I dabbled in speculation as to what his motive might be.

As for me, I was coming to view life as a series of stages. I knew that I had encountered yet another crossroads; my heart insisted, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it was high time to make the move into the next phase of my life.