Author's Note: Disclaimer et al at the beginning of the first chapter.
Enjoy!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 2
As Meg stepped into the interior of the temple, her senses immediately took in the now familiar scent of incense and the glow of candle light. Taking a quick look around, she realized she had the place to herself for the moment. Good. She walked along the aisle, admiring the various statues and paintings lining the walls, coming finally to the huge statue of Buddha resting against the far wall. Kneeling on a pillow, she picked up a stick of incense, lit it, and brought it to her forehead with both hands. She then inserted it into the brass bowl of sand in front of Buddha. She put her hands in prayer position, palms together, arms close to her chest, and closed her eyes. She sat in prayer for some time when she heard a rustling at her side. She lifted her head to see an elderly monk with a shaven head, wrapped in an orange and gold robe, regarding her curiously.
"Ni hao?" Meg asked politely, coming to her feet. The monk bowed and replied that he was fine. "Are you Soom Meng?" she inquired, deciding to come straight to the point. He looked startled.
"Yes," he answered in english, a little apprehensive. Meg smiled, relieved.
"Great. Listen, I need to speak with John Lee. Chien Yau sent me." This wasn't entirely true, but close enough. Something passed over the monk's face. Not exactly fear, but an emotion close to it.
"Duibuqi. Wo bu dong," he stated flatly. He was sorry, he didn't understand. Yeah, right.
"Look, I appreciate the fact that you're watching over him and his family, but I really need to speak with him. It's urgent." He repeated that he didn't understand. Meg sighed and wished fervently for a gun so she could scare it out of him. Then again, that might not work in this case. She tried a different tact and dug in her bag, bringing out the photographs and handing them to Soom Meng. "Please, just give this to him, he'll understand." She pressed the photos into his hand and tried to look trustworthy. No easy feat. He finally nodded and left her, disappearing into the dark recesses of the temple.
She returned to her spot in front of the statue and sort of zoned out until she heard a soft "Meg" behind her. She turned quickly and rose to her feet. John Lee stood in front of her. He was wearing a black mandarin collar shirt and matching pants, the pictures in his hand. His hair was that same beautiful dark black, so black it had blue highlights. His eyes were the same intense deep brown, which at the moment were regarding her with concern and . . . pleasure, maybe? Meg was suddenly full of nervous energy, shuffling her feet and not knowing quite what to do with her hands.
"Hey, John. I was just in the neighborhood, so . . ." Oh, that wasn't too lame. John simply stared at her, a small smile forming on his lips.
"Somehow I doubt that." His expression then turned serious. "What are you doing here? How did you find me?"
"Right." She suddenly had a focus for her energy. Before she could say anything, she looked over John's shoulder at the entrance where what looked like a tourist group was just entering. "Could we talk somewhere else?" Meg asked, grabbing her bags from the floor. John nodded.
"Of course. This way." He held her elbow as he guided her in the direction Soom Meng had gone earlier. A few twists and turns later, they came out into the sunshine, passing through a small but well kept and beautiful garden surrounded by high stone walls. At the end of the path through the foliage, there was a small house. John opened the door and motioned for her to enter first.
Inside a small living room area, Soom Meng was sitting with a young Chinese woman wearing an outfit similar to John's but in a pale blue. She looked about twenty, lovely with long dark hair in a braid down her back. She and the monk rose when they entered. John and Meng exchanged a look and the monk left the house, presumably to head back to the temple. John gestured to the woman who stepped forward cautiously. Up close, she was very diminutive, coming only to Meg's shoulder.
"Meg, this is my sister Miasu. Mia, this is Meg Coburn." The woman's face broke into a grin and she held out a hand.
"You are Meg! It is an honor to meet you," Mia gushed enthusiastically in english, grabbing Meg's hand and pumping up and down.
"Same here," Meg responded, smiling nervously and throwing John a bewildered look over Mia's head.
"Mia," her brother intoned. "Why don't you offer our guest some tea?" Mia stopped shaking Meg's hand and with obvious effort clamped down her enthusiasm.
"Would you care for tea?" she asked politely.
"Tea sounds great, thanks." Mia bowed and left the room. John gestured Meg to a small couch and joined her as she sat down. "What was that all about?" Meg asked.
"I have told Mia of your part in my escape. I think she has made you her . . .," John paused as he searched for the right word. "Hero." Meg burst into laughter.
"You're kidding. Me? That's a new one. You know, you saved my butt at least as many times as I saved yours." John shook his head.
"You would not have been in danger to begin with if not for me," he said seriously. Meg nodded, conceding his point.
"Fair enough. Which reminds me, those are mine," she told him, pointing to the photographs he still held in his hand. John eyed her curiously, but handed the pictures over without comment. Meg held the photos in her hand, sweeping a finger over the surface. "You know, these are the only proof I have that you passed through my life," Meg said softly. John frowned and seemed about to comment when Mia entered the room, tea tray in hand, breaking the moment. John shifted his eyes to his sister while Meg busied herself returning the pictures to her bag. Mia set the tray on the table and poured, turning to look at Meg.
"My brother said you had brown hair and eyes," she commented, handing Meg the cup she just filled. Meg's free hand went to the wig.
"Oh, a wig and contacts. My disguise. Technically, Meg Coburn wasn't supposed to leave the country, so . . . I borrowed Ann Thompson's passport." Mia smiled and handed her brother a cup of tea. An unspoken conversation seemed to pass between the two. Mia lifted the tea tray and turned to Meg.
"If you will excuse me, I must return to my studies." She then bowed to both and left the room, closing the door firmly behind her. Meg set down her tea and waited a few moments, making sure Mia was far enough away not to overhear. She then turned to face John.
"There's a contract out on you and your family," she told him bluntly.
"Who?" he asked.
"Peter Wei's brother-in-law, if you can believe that. Rahn Koy. He came to visit his sister and nephew in LA after Terence Wei's death. Apparently liked what he saw and started taking over Wei's business, claiming family ties. Says he wants to preserve and expand for when his nephew comes of age. Yeah, right," she said, rolling her eyes and continuing seriously. "He's a real son of a bitch. Hard core, scary. But he has critics who say he should take care of loose ends, you being a major one. One of those 'debt of honor' things you guys are so fond of. Zedkov is part of the deal too, but he wasn't about to put his son through that again. He packed up the kid and ex and left for parts unknown. I hope to Christ he makes it." John absorbed this silently. Meg picked up her cup, taking a sip.
"How did you come across this information?" he asked finally.
"Different details from different sources," Meg told him, settling back into the sofa and crossing her legs. "Zedkov and I kept in touch, he passed me any relevant news he had from his Chinatown snitches. Well, before he split anyway. Loco gave me information from his drug contacts and gangs, although I think he used our info exchange meetings more as an opportunity to look up my skirt than anything else. And of course Chien Yau, Alan's predecessor at the temple. He's also how I found you, in case that was your next question." John appeared to think this over, then shook his head.
"I can't believe Yau let you come over here alone, " he commented. Meg developed a sudden intense interest in the design on her tea cup. And John noticed. "Meg?" he questioned sternly. Meg took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
"Okay, 'let' is a strong word . . ." John merely waited, raising his eyebrows questioningly. "All right, all right, Jesus, you're harsh! He doesn't even know I'm here, okay? Actually, I take that back, he's probably figured out by now that I'm not in LA anymore. In which case, I give him three guesses . . . bet he gets it on the first. I'm not exactly sure what plans he had for helping you out, he didn't go into details, but I knew I wanted to be part of it." John did not look happy.
"You should not have come, Meg, you have put yourself in great danger." Meg gave an exasperated sigh and set her tea back on the table, leaning closer to him.
"You think I don't know that, John? You think I didn't question my motives twenty-thousand times on that lovely fifteen and a half hour trip over here? Leaving LA, which, granted, is not the safest place on earth, but at least I knew the rules. And, trust me, I've always been one to think of my own ass first." She stopped speaking abruptly and shook her head, staring at her clasped hands before going on more slowly. "I just couldn't wait around LA to hear if you were dead or alive," she told him solemnly.
John studied her bent head for a moment before setting his own tea down and rising from the couch. Meg lifted her head to follow his movements as he paced around the room, deep in thought. After at least five minutes of this, he finally stopped on the other side of the table and looked down at her. Feet apart, hands clasped in front of him, he looked exactly as he had the first time they met in her office.
"What is your plan?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 2
As Meg stepped into the interior of the temple, her senses immediately took in the now familiar scent of incense and the glow of candle light. Taking a quick look around, she realized she had the place to herself for the moment. Good. She walked along the aisle, admiring the various statues and paintings lining the walls, coming finally to the huge statue of Buddha resting against the far wall. Kneeling on a pillow, she picked up a stick of incense, lit it, and brought it to her forehead with both hands. She then inserted it into the brass bowl of sand in front of Buddha. She put her hands in prayer position, palms together, arms close to her chest, and closed her eyes. She sat in prayer for some time when she heard a rustling at her side. She lifted her head to see an elderly monk with a shaven head, wrapped in an orange and gold robe, regarding her curiously.
"Ni hao?" Meg asked politely, coming to her feet. The monk bowed and replied that he was fine. "Are you Soom Meng?" she inquired, deciding to come straight to the point. He looked startled.
"Yes," he answered in english, a little apprehensive. Meg smiled, relieved.
"Great. Listen, I need to speak with John Lee. Chien Yau sent me." This wasn't entirely true, but close enough. Something passed over the monk's face. Not exactly fear, but an emotion close to it.
"Duibuqi. Wo bu dong," he stated flatly. He was sorry, he didn't understand. Yeah, right.
"Look, I appreciate the fact that you're watching over him and his family, but I really need to speak with him. It's urgent." He repeated that he didn't understand. Meg sighed and wished fervently for a gun so she could scare it out of him. Then again, that might not work in this case. She tried a different tact and dug in her bag, bringing out the photographs and handing them to Soom Meng. "Please, just give this to him, he'll understand." She pressed the photos into his hand and tried to look trustworthy. No easy feat. He finally nodded and left her, disappearing into the dark recesses of the temple.
She returned to her spot in front of the statue and sort of zoned out until she heard a soft "Meg" behind her. She turned quickly and rose to her feet. John Lee stood in front of her. He was wearing a black mandarin collar shirt and matching pants, the pictures in his hand. His hair was that same beautiful dark black, so black it had blue highlights. His eyes were the same intense deep brown, which at the moment were regarding her with concern and . . . pleasure, maybe? Meg was suddenly full of nervous energy, shuffling her feet and not knowing quite what to do with her hands.
"Hey, John. I was just in the neighborhood, so . . ." Oh, that wasn't too lame. John simply stared at her, a small smile forming on his lips.
"Somehow I doubt that." His expression then turned serious. "What are you doing here? How did you find me?"
"Right." She suddenly had a focus for her energy. Before she could say anything, she looked over John's shoulder at the entrance where what looked like a tourist group was just entering. "Could we talk somewhere else?" Meg asked, grabbing her bags from the floor. John nodded.
"Of course. This way." He held her elbow as he guided her in the direction Soom Meng had gone earlier. A few twists and turns later, they came out into the sunshine, passing through a small but well kept and beautiful garden surrounded by high stone walls. At the end of the path through the foliage, there was a small house. John opened the door and motioned for her to enter first.
Inside a small living room area, Soom Meng was sitting with a young Chinese woman wearing an outfit similar to John's but in a pale blue. She looked about twenty, lovely with long dark hair in a braid down her back. She and the monk rose when they entered. John and Meng exchanged a look and the monk left the house, presumably to head back to the temple. John gestured to the woman who stepped forward cautiously. Up close, she was very diminutive, coming only to Meg's shoulder.
"Meg, this is my sister Miasu. Mia, this is Meg Coburn." The woman's face broke into a grin and she held out a hand.
"You are Meg! It is an honor to meet you," Mia gushed enthusiastically in english, grabbing Meg's hand and pumping up and down.
"Same here," Meg responded, smiling nervously and throwing John a bewildered look over Mia's head.
"Mia," her brother intoned. "Why don't you offer our guest some tea?" Mia stopped shaking Meg's hand and with obvious effort clamped down her enthusiasm.
"Would you care for tea?" she asked politely.
"Tea sounds great, thanks." Mia bowed and left the room. John gestured Meg to a small couch and joined her as she sat down. "What was that all about?" Meg asked.
"I have told Mia of your part in my escape. I think she has made you her . . .," John paused as he searched for the right word. "Hero." Meg burst into laughter.
"You're kidding. Me? That's a new one. You know, you saved my butt at least as many times as I saved yours." John shook his head.
"You would not have been in danger to begin with if not for me," he said seriously. Meg nodded, conceding his point.
"Fair enough. Which reminds me, those are mine," she told him, pointing to the photographs he still held in his hand. John eyed her curiously, but handed the pictures over without comment. Meg held the photos in her hand, sweeping a finger over the surface. "You know, these are the only proof I have that you passed through my life," Meg said softly. John frowned and seemed about to comment when Mia entered the room, tea tray in hand, breaking the moment. John shifted his eyes to his sister while Meg busied herself returning the pictures to her bag. Mia set the tray on the table and poured, turning to look at Meg.
"My brother said you had brown hair and eyes," she commented, handing Meg the cup she just filled. Meg's free hand went to the wig.
"Oh, a wig and contacts. My disguise. Technically, Meg Coburn wasn't supposed to leave the country, so . . . I borrowed Ann Thompson's passport." Mia smiled and handed her brother a cup of tea. An unspoken conversation seemed to pass between the two. Mia lifted the tea tray and turned to Meg.
"If you will excuse me, I must return to my studies." She then bowed to both and left the room, closing the door firmly behind her. Meg set down her tea and waited a few moments, making sure Mia was far enough away not to overhear. She then turned to face John.
"There's a contract out on you and your family," she told him bluntly.
"Who?" he asked.
"Peter Wei's brother-in-law, if you can believe that. Rahn Koy. He came to visit his sister and nephew in LA after Terence Wei's death. Apparently liked what he saw and started taking over Wei's business, claiming family ties. Says he wants to preserve and expand for when his nephew comes of age. Yeah, right," she said, rolling her eyes and continuing seriously. "He's a real son of a bitch. Hard core, scary. But he has critics who say he should take care of loose ends, you being a major one. One of those 'debt of honor' things you guys are so fond of. Zedkov is part of the deal too, but he wasn't about to put his son through that again. He packed up the kid and ex and left for parts unknown. I hope to Christ he makes it." John absorbed this silently. Meg picked up her cup, taking a sip.
"How did you come across this information?" he asked finally.
"Different details from different sources," Meg told him, settling back into the sofa and crossing her legs. "Zedkov and I kept in touch, he passed me any relevant news he had from his Chinatown snitches. Well, before he split anyway. Loco gave me information from his drug contacts and gangs, although I think he used our info exchange meetings more as an opportunity to look up my skirt than anything else. And of course Chien Yau, Alan's predecessor at the temple. He's also how I found you, in case that was your next question." John appeared to think this over, then shook his head.
"I can't believe Yau let you come over here alone, " he commented. Meg developed a sudden intense interest in the design on her tea cup. And John noticed. "Meg?" he questioned sternly. Meg took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
"Okay, 'let' is a strong word . . ." John merely waited, raising his eyebrows questioningly. "All right, all right, Jesus, you're harsh! He doesn't even know I'm here, okay? Actually, I take that back, he's probably figured out by now that I'm not in LA anymore. In which case, I give him three guesses . . . bet he gets it on the first. I'm not exactly sure what plans he had for helping you out, he didn't go into details, but I knew I wanted to be part of it." John did not look happy.
"You should not have come, Meg, you have put yourself in great danger." Meg gave an exasperated sigh and set her tea back on the table, leaning closer to him.
"You think I don't know that, John? You think I didn't question my motives twenty-thousand times on that lovely fifteen and a half hour trip over here? Leaving LA, which, granted, is not the safest place on earth, but at least I knew the rules. And, trust me, I've always been one to think of my own ass first." She stopped speaking abruptly and shook her head, staring at her clasped hands before going on more slowly. "I just couldn't wait around LA to hear if you were dead or alive," she told him solemnly.
John studied her bent head for a moment before setting his own tea down and rising from the couch. Meg lifted her head to follow his movements as he paced around the room, deep in thought. After at least five minutes of this, he finally stopped on the other side of the table and looked down at her. Feet apart, hands clasped in front of him, he looked exactly as he had the first time they met in her office.
"What is your plan?"
