Author's Note: I'm definitely getting close to the end, I'd say a couple of more chapters and this particular story should be wrapped up. My apologies for taking so long to post, but I was seriously stuck on it. I had really REALLY wanted to have the final shootout in the Forbidden City. I did a ton of reserach on it. I have diagrams and maps and guides and descriptions and pictures. But I finally decided it was just too impractical. I couldn't figure out a 'why'. As in, "Why would they end up there to begin with?" And the place is really just too large anyway. Besides, John already TWO shootouts;) As always, I hope you enjoy it and please let me know if you do!

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Chapter Ten

Meg and Mia caught a connecting United Airlines flight to Los Angeles at Tokyo's Narita airport. They settled in for the longest leg of the journey, another fifteen hours. Plenty of time to think. Too much time.

I should've brought a book, Meg thought. Yeah, a nice murder mystery. That brought to mind unpleasant associations. Okay, a fluffy little romance, maybe. That didn't help either.

Meg sighed and turned to Mia, who was looking out the window at the scenery below. Again. She'd barely removed her nose from the glass on the flight from Beijing. The poor thing had never seen the ocean, never been out of the country, never been on a plane, never done a lot of things.

To keep both their minds off John, Meg had tried to keep Mia talking. She had been curious about Liu Jian. Mia told her all about the big "romance". Turned out it consisted entirely of small talk while Liu had been walking his dog in the park. The guy actually did sound nice. Maybe the whole smarmy vibe was strictly a work persona.

Since much of Mia's life had been spent in hiding, she hadn't made many friends, none long term. Most of the human contact had been with her mother and whoever John had arranged to look after them at the time. Meg hadn't realized how incredibly sheltered the girl was. John had looked after her interests and obviously loved her, but she was twenty years old and had no idea how to take care of herself. If Mia was going to live in America, she needed a serious crash course on being American. Meg would take the girl under her wing, she had potential. First stop, the shooting range.

Mia asked questions about Meg's life in LA. So Meg told her about work, the temple, Chien, and target practice. Mia found it all fascinating.

"Could I learn about guns?" Mia asked hopefully.

"Would you believe I was just thinking that same exact thing?" Meg replied.

Mia practically bounced in her seat and gave Meg an impulsive hug. Meg still wasn't accustomed to such displays of affection, but patted her on the back and smiled. Mia turned her attention back to the window, but since the rest of the journey was over the Pacific Ocean, she soon lost interest and started yawning. Meg pulled a travel pillow and blanket from the overhead compartment and handed them to Mia. Situated comfortably, Mia soon fell asleep.

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After leaving the airport, Koy and his men stepped into a waiting black sedan. John caught the nearest taxi and instructed the driver to follow. He watched as the sedan pull up to the Movenpick. One of Koy's men entered the building and exited a few minutes later with a young man in a hotel uniform. John recognized him. Son, the one who had been watching him in the hallway. That's how Koy's men had found him at Vogue.

Son was hustled into the car, emerging some time later to walk hurriedly back into the hotel, throwing nervous looks over his shoulder.

The sedan pulled away from the curb. The taxi driver asked John is he should again follow. John considered and replied in the negative. He paid the man, then slid out of the car and walked into the building. He had a hunch.

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Having already flipped through the airline magazine twice, Meg began to fidget in her seat. On the arriving flight, she'd had the Chinese language tapes to occupy her time, but they'd been left at the Movenpick along with her cassette player. She glanced over at Mia. Still out.

Meg suddenly remembered John's briefcase. She stood and pulled it out of the overhead compartment, then sat back down. Opening the case, she found the bank papers John had shown her the night before. She pushed them aside to discover a considerable amount of cash, US dollars and Chinese RMB, and a manila folder. Curious, she flipped open the folder and examined its contents.

Wow.

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Not seeing Son at the front desk, John took the elevator to the second floor and walked to room two-sixteen. It was ajar, held open by the latch across the doorframe, preventing the door from closing entirely. Looking both ways to make sure no one else was in the hallway, John enetered the room and closed the door behind him.

It looked as if the room hadn't yet been cleaned. Meg's discarded belongings were still scattered. Son had been searching through them when he heard the door close and turned around. He blanched when he recognized John and looked frantically around the room for an escape route. John was blocking the only way out.

"I need answers," John told him. "And you will give them to me."

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Meg had in her hands official documentation from the British Embassy in Beijing. The papers declared that Sung Ju and her laison with the American Embassy, Ann Thompson, were carriers of a diplomatic pouch for the British Consulate in Los Angeles. That gave them diplomatic immunity. If she didn't know any better, she would swear the papers were authentic. Impressive as they were, Meg didn't see them being needed. She hoped.

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John exited the Movenpick and slid into the backseat of a taxi, giving the driver his destination. Even though John didn't have a weapon, his presence had been enough to persuade Son to tell everything he knew. Koy was not happy about losing his men at Vogue and had come to Son to find out if he had any additional information. John held up the card that Koy had given Son. It listed a phone number, a hotel name, and a room number.

After another trip to the Chenxie District for a set of Berettas, a silencer, ammunition, and a shoulder holster, John proceeded to Koy's hotel. The taxi pulled up in front of the Prime Hotel on Wang Fujing. John paid the driver, got out, and entered the lobby. He bought a newspaper and settled in a chair facing the elevators.

A short while later, Koy came down with his bodyguards, but only ate lunch in the hotel restraunt and then went back upstairs. As it started to get dark, Koy again ventured out with only one of his guards this time. John rose and followed them to the entrance, stopping just inside the doors to watch as the bodyguard left Koy to retrieve the car.

John glanced around and decided not to risk taking Koy out. The area was too public and the hotel probably had cameras covering the entrances. The bodyguard pulled up to the curb, hopped out to open the door for Koy, and got back behind the wheel. John waited until the black sedan was down the drive before catching a taxi and following.

The sedan stopped at the Great Wall Sheraton Hotel. While the guard waited in the car, John followed Koy inside and watched as he pushed through the crowd in front of Passion. Passion was hands down the busiest disco in Beijing. It was also for men only.

John made his way to the entrance of the club. The bouncer gave him the once over, then motioned him in. The interior was pure industrial influence. Metal walls, stairs, and catwalks along with a stainless steel bar along one wall. John found a stool at a dark corner of the bar and ordered a drink. He sipped while scanning the crowd for Koy, finally spotting him on the dance floor with a young man who looked all of sixteen.

Koy and his dance partner were gyrating suggestively to the music and after several songs walked off the dance floor. John threw some money on the bar and followed as they entered a hallway at the back of the club. A series of curtained rooms branched off the hallway. By the sounds coming from behind the curtains, it was obvious what the rooms were for.

Koy and his companion entered a room at the end of the passage to the left, closing the curtain behind them. John attached the silencer to one of the Berettas and walked down the hallway, stopping outside their room. He glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then entered after them. Koy was sitting on a low couch while the boy was kneeling in front of him. They both looked up at John's entrance.

"Leave," John told the young man, who immediately scrambled to his feet and out of the room. John brought up the gun and aimed at Koy.

"John Lee," Koy said, seeming not in the least afraid. "I was hoping to meet you in person, though not under these circumstances." Koy chuckled. "I was told not to underestimate you, I must admit I am impressed." John didn't answer and fingered the trigger. Sensing that John wasn't interested in hearing platitudes, Koy switched gears. "Before you pull the trigger, you might want to listen to what I have to say. Ann Thompson and Sung Ju are passengers on China East flight two-two-nine connecting in Tokyo with American Airlines flight thirteen-forty-seven to Los Angeles. Sound familiar?" Koy leaned back, a smug look on his face.

"What are you talking about?" John asked, though his heart had begun to race and a cold fear coiled around his chest.

"I think you know. That little morsel Son told us the American woman's name. I have a friend at the airport who found out her itinerary and who she was seated with - Sung Ju and Alan Chan. I had assumed you were using Alan Chan, but if you're here . . . Well, no matter, they have a surprise wating for them when they reach Los Angeles."

"Then I have no time to waste with you," John said as he pulled the trigger, hitting Koy between the eyes. He holstered the gun and quickly left the club.

He had to find a phone. Now.

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Disclaimer: Once again, Passion is an actual disco in Beijing, the busiest and for men only. But I've never been there. I based the interior after Babylon, a club on one of my and my siblings favorite tv series, 'Queer As Folk', on Showtime. My personal fav is Emmett, he is SO flaming! You go, boy!