Chapter 27

"Zi Wu Yuan Yang Yue," I said in Cantonese.

"I don't think so," James said.

James had asked me to name my weapon of choice for the takedown. I'd told him I'd use deer-horn knives. In ancient times, the knives were shaped like Mandarin ducks (Yuan is a male duck; Yang is female). Sometime during the last 150 years, another blade was added, giving the knives an appearance of two crescents overlapping, so they were also referred to as crescent-moon knives. I called them zi-wu knives.

"Remember what happened during the Boxer Rebellion," James said. "The Boxers lost because their opponents had firearms. Freemont's two bodyguards are armed, Freemont, as well. You can take that to the bank, and I've gotta believe the bodyguards are expert with the weapons they carry."

"James, my proficiency with firearms is... well, let me just say I'm a long way from expert. I am an expert with zi-wu knives, at least I was when I lived as Fang Hong."

"Have you even had a zi-wu knife in your hands in this life?"

"No, but the skill set is here." I tapped my forehead. "And my hand/eye coordination is better in this life than when I lived as Fang Hong. When you said the takedown would take place in the corridor of a mid-rise apartment building, zi-wu knives sprang immediately to mind. They're awesome weapons in close quarters."

"Not as awesome as a shotgun."

"Shotguns make a lot of noise. Wouldn't a silent attack lend an advantage to our escape?"

"Yes, but..."

"James, if we were on the street or sidewalk or even in a residence, I would've selected the saber."

James shook his head in dismay and walked to the whiteboard, where he quickly sketched a floor plan. The sketch showed the location of the elevators, the elevator lobby and the corridor that led to the apartment Freemont maintained for his Eurasian mistress, an apartment Freemont visited two or three times a week to get his ashes hauled. From the advance work, James had eliminated Freemont's fortress for the takedown, especially when his people pointed out Freemont's habitual visits to his mistress.

"Freemont and his two bodyguards will ascend to the 18^th floor in one of these elevators. When the elevator doors open, one of the bodyguards will step out of the elevator and check out the lobby. If it's clear, the other bodyguard will precede Freemont into the lobby. The first bodyguard will walk to the end of the lobby and check out the corridor that leads to the mistress's apartment, here." He pointed at the symbol for a door at the end of the corridor. "If the corridor is clear, Freemont will walk up to the bodyguard standing with a view down the corridor. The other bodyguard will follow him, watching behind toward the elevator lobby for new threats. When Freemont is almost abreast of the first bodyguard, that bodyguard will move in front of him to the apartment door, and the other bodyguard will situate himself so he can see both the elevator lobby and the corridor."

"Did your people watch this happen?" I said, somewhat surprised.

"No. It's the way I'd handle the situation as a protector, except I'd send a man up to the 18^th floor before stepping into the elevator. If possible, I'd avoid the elevator completely, but forcing my principal to walk up 18 floors wouldn't be practical, especially if the principal was approaching sixty years old like Freemont. My people observed Freemont and his bodyguards arrive at the apartment building. His driver stays with the vehicle until Freemont and the two bodyguards disappear into the elevator, and then the driver pulls around the block and parks in a no-parking zone to wait for Freemont's return. The bodyguards and driver wear state-of-the-art wireless communication equipment, and the driver is summoned when Freemont is ready to leave. Upon their arrival, both bodyguards enter the elevator with Freemont, a mistake, but that's what they do. A short time later, one of the bodyguards returns to the ground-floor lobby to watch for threats entering the building. This guard also talks with the building guard at the security station in the main lobby. All elevator lobbies in the building are equipped with video cameras, and the building guard greets arrivals to the building and watches the rotating video feeds on one monitor in the security station."

He sighed. "Back to this floor plan. You and I will be inside this equipment room, here." He pointed at a small room off the corridor about halfway from the lobby to the apartment door.

"Does the video camera cover the corridor?" I asked.

"No, just the elevator lobby. Listen up, Brent. I'm trying to tell you why zi-wu knives won't work. After the bodyguard moves past the equipment room, I'll open the door for you. You'll step out and kill Freemont, turn and kill the bodyguard close to the apartment, turn again and kill the bodyguard at the other end of the corridor by the elevator lobby. With zi-wu knives, you could probably kill Freemont and possibly the first bodyguard, but the second bodyguard is too far away for a zi-wu knife. Even as fast as you are, he will draw his weapon and shoot you before you can get close enough to him to strike with the blades."

"I see your point," I said and grinned at him. "Which means that I'll also need some small zi-wu, small enough to use as throwing stars."

James laughed, dry ugly sounds. "Not on my watch," he said. "Part three of my assignment dictates that I'm supposed to keep you relatively unscathed during the mission. I can't do that if you go against those men with zi-wu knives. With a silenced semi-automatic pistol, you can take out those three men in two or three seconds, before they can pull their weapons from holsters and aim them at you."

"You can. I can't," I said. "I'd probably miss the man by the elevator lobby. Question. Do the bodyguards wear bulletproof vests?"

"I don't know, but I'll find out. For the purposes of discussion let's assume they do."

"That means I've got to shoot Freemont and his guards in the head. James, I'm not that good with a pistol. Sorry. Let's do this. Arrange to have some zi-wu knives delivered here, standard-size, as well as some small ones for throwing. We'll set up the corridor battle scene, and I'll demonstrate how I'll get the job done. If you're not satisfied I can do the job with zi-wu, I'll do it your way."

He nodded. "Practice is good. I'll also arrange some practice with a pistol under the same mocked-up conditions."

"Are you out of your mind?" Grace shouted, her voice shrill with worry. "You can't go up against three men packing guns with a couple of knives!"

I chuckled. "James says I can take them out with a pistol in two or three seconds. That'll never happen, not with my meager shooting skills. With zi-wu, I can cut that time in half, and I won't miss." I gave James a hard look. "You aren't playing fair." He'd just blabbed my intent to my sister to garner her support to force me to use a firearm for the takedown instead of zi-wu knives.

He grinned. "All's fair in love and war. This spaghetti sauce is delicious."

"Thanks," Mary said.

We were eating dinner.

"When will you leave for Taipei?" Mary asked.

"At the soonest, the day after tomorrow," James said. "Tomorrow is for practice. If necessary, we'll stay another day, and another, and continue practicing until I feel comfortable that Brent can do the job without getting harmed in the process."

"I want to observe the practice sessions," Mary said.

"Likewise," Grace said.

James groaned.

I laughed and said, "Their involvement is your doing, not mine. Where will we be practicing?"

"The simulated elevator lobby, corridor and equipment room are being set up at a nearby shooting range as we speak." He grinned. "I prevailed upon a friend of mine to isolate a portion of his facility. The walls will be plywood, and we'll use some of his pop-up targets for Freemont and his two bodyguards, except they won't pop up. Our first practice session is scheduled after breakfast tomorrow." He looked at Grace and Mary. "For security reasons, neither of you are welcome at the sessions."

"Uh-uh," Grace said. "You scared me half to death with your comments. Now you'll just have to put up with my presence until I can gain a sense of comfort about the situation my brother is walking into and whether he can handle it."

"Likewise," Mary said.

I laughed again and said, "Good luck, boss. When the ladies work in tandem, I learned long ago to just throw my hands in the air and give up."

James was getting impatient with me. When we arrived at the mock-up, I'd insisted on some practice time with the zi-wu knives, both the standard-size and the throwing kind. I ran through a couple of exercises with the larger knives and quickly regained my confidence with them, but I had some trouble at first with the smaller knives I used as shuriken. Because it had been in the neighborhood of one hundred years since I'd thrown one, it took me about a half-hour to regain my proficiency.

"Show me how you'd to this with a pistol," I said to James.

"I don't need the practice. You do," James said. He gave me a crooked grin. "Besides, if I showed you how I'd do it, I'd intimidate you and set back the assignment for days."

I chuckled. "Cocky S.O.B. Let's do this. You do the takedown your way, and I'll do it my way. Grace and Mary can time us." James had given them stopwatches to time my efforts.

"Those little zi-wu won't kill, Brent, not like a bullet."

"Maybe not, but with two or three of them in the bodyguard's face, I'll have time to advance on him and take his head, if necessary."

He grumbled but stuck out his hand. "Give me the weapon." We were using paint guns for the simulation.

"Time him, ladies," I said. They nodded. "Start the time when I open the equipment-room door." I turned to James. "Ready?"

He nodded. I opened the door. He raised the gun, pulled the trigger, stepped forward, turned to the left, fired the gun again, turned right, and the gun exploded for the third time.

"Stop!" I said.

"One-point-nine seconds," Mary said.

"Jesus," Grace said and then blushed. "Sorry, I forgot to stop the watch."

I looked at the targets. Orange paint dotted the foreheads of all three targets.

"Whew!" I grinned. "Intimidating, that's for sure."

"You try it with the paint gun now," James said.

"You are a stubborn cuss," I said.

"Play along with me. If you're as lousy with a pistol as you say you are, I'll let you try with the wushu weapons."

"All right."

"Do the best you can. I'll know if you're faking it."

I took the gun.

"Time him," James said. "Ready?"

I nodded, and he opened the door. I raised the weapon and pulled the trigger, stepped forward, turned to my left and pulled the trigger again."

"Stop!" James shouted. "You shot the bodyguard in the chest. For this exercise, we're assuming that they're wearing body armor, Brent."

"I know. I pulled the trigger too fast."

"Again," he said.

On my second try, I shot the mocked-up colonel in the head, and did the same with the bodyguard by the apartment door, but I completely missed the bodyguard near the elevator lobby.

"Three-point-seven seconds," Grace said.

"Not bad," James said to me.

"Hah! I'm a dead man. The bodyguard still standing would have pulled his gun and shot me dead in that amount of time. Let me try it with the zi-wu now."

"You're just as stubborn as I am," James said. "With some practice, I could train you to do the job with a pistol."

"How long would it take? A week? A month?"

"Less than a month."

"Give me your best guess about how long Freemont will hang around Taipei," I said.

He frowned. "No need to guess," James said. "Surveillance indicated that he plans a trip to the United States next week. Okay, let's see how well you do with those goddamned knives."

I gave him the paint gun and picked up the larger zi-wu knives. Four throwing zi-wu knives were in pouches in a belt I strapped across my chest like a bandolier. I performed a quick mental preview of my movements and gave James the nod.

He opened the door. I stepped out of the room and swung the zi-wu in my right hand, dropped the weapon, pulled a throwing zi-wu out of a pouch and flung it side-armed at the guard at the elevator lobby, moved the larger zi-wu in my left hand to my right as I took a step toward the guard near the apartment door, and swung again.

"Time," James said.

Ignoring James, I switched hands with the large zi-wu as I turned back to the guard at the elevator lobby, and threw another zi-wu as I advanced on him. The force of the throwing zi-wu had knocked the target over backwards. With the larger zi-wu in my right hand again, I stepped up to the fallen target and stopped the swing of the weapon before it struck the target with a lethal blow.

"One-point-eight seconds," Mary said with a grin.

"Jesus," Grace breathed.

I dug the two small zi-wu out of the wood target near the elevator lobby. It wasn't easy. They'd sunk into the soft wood deeper than I'd expected.

"Let's do it again," James said. "This time, Mary, time the session until I say, 'Time.' Grace, like Mary, start your stopwatch when the door opens and time the session until I say, 'Stop.' Okay."

The ladies acknowledged their instructions.

"Those two targets don't have heads anymore," Mary said, pointing at the Freemont target and the target near the apartment door.

"This is a simulation," James said, shaking his head in wonder. "We'll pretend the heads are there."

The second time around, I finished the first section of the attack in one-point-seven seconds, and completed the attack in two-point-one seconds.

"Okay," James said. "We'll go with the zi-wu knives, but you'll need to push the complete attack to below two seconds, Brent."

"Are you feeling more comfortable with my knives, Grace?" I asked.

She nodded. "You're a scary man, little brother."

It was late. Mary and I had made love. She went to sleep. I didn't. I was also thirsty, so I rolled quietly from the bed and padded in the dark to the kitchen for a drink of water. The soft murmur of voices caught my attention before I turned on the faucet to fill a glass.

Grace and James were sitting outside in the moonlight. The French door to the patio was open, and a cool breeze washed over my flesh. I wasn't naked. I wore boxers, but intruding on my sister and friend dressed as I was would be inappropriate. Expecting them to hear me, I turned on the faucet, filled the glass and gulped at the water.