Chapter 6 - Temptation
In an office overlooking the more "prosperous" areas of Roanapur, the leader of the Wo Triad branch out of Hong Kong, a man otherwise known as Lee Kwan, rested his elbows upon his desk, fingers interlaced as he stared across the room.
A relatively tall male in his late thirties, clad in an expensive suit as a half-empty bottle of vintage liquor lay to the side of the desk; his expression was reminiscent of a sulk. Lee Kwan sat alone in the lavish office, his subordinates knowing better than to remain in his presence while he was in one of his "moods." Truth be told, Lee Kwan was an intimidating figure, if not for his tall stature, then most certainly for his tyrant-like personality and the seething, nearly paranoid gleam in his eyes. An egomaniacal narcissist, it was a logical theory among many that Lee Kwan had most likely joined the Triads to feed his obsessive compulsive need for power and control over others.
He cracked his knuckles as agitated thoughts entered his mind.
Thaksin, that stupid asshole. Just what the hell was he thinking? Lee Kwan recalled from a most recent report, he had tried to make off with 100K of the Triad's own money. Worse yet, the damn child prostitute that Thaksin had hired to "entertain" himself and his buddies had stolen the money after the Lagoon couriers showed up and blasted everything to kingdom come.
Lee Kwan snarled, momentarily turning his mental focus to the gun-girl of the Lagoon Company. It was no secret that the man harbored a strong dislike, even so far as a great hatred of the independent "contractors" within the city of Roanapur, most notably the female hunters. Despicable creatures that exchanged their bloody services for a set sum of money, Lee Kwan saw them as nothing but glorified whores.
But in truth, the malice he felt towards the hunters was most likely not stemmed from chauvinistic inclinations, but more so from his own self-loathing. These killers seemed to have their own sense of rules and codes of conduct, self-made villains that stood independently and worked only when it suited their own needs. In essence, the hunters ruled themselves, and it grated Lee Kwan's narcissistic pride.
After all the years of relentless clawing and back-stabbing he had done to get to his current position as leader of the Wo Triad, Lee Kwan himself was still a subordinate to the larger, more powerful 14K Triad underneath the command of Mr. Chang. The sole reason Kwan was currently at the helm in Roanapur was not for his "skills," but only because Mr. Chang had to lower his presence due to a recent incident involving a maid and some American soldiers. It was an irony, a fact that Lee Kwan despised.
Reflecting back on his hatred of the hunters, he listed the names of well-known contractors in his head. Revy, Eda, Shenhua, Sawyer.
The last name clung to his mind.
Sawyer the Cleaner: of all of the freelancers within Roanapur, she was the hunter that Lee Kwan had the highest dislike for. Not only did he despise independent contractors, but he had no respect for cleaners as well. Blinded by his crooked sense of pride, he preferred to see cleaners as disgusting vultures that fed off of rotten corpses, refusing to acknowledge the fact that cleaning was an absolutely vital function in the realm of villains, a task that a good portion of people within the city were surprisingly very thankful for.
Cleaning profession aside, another reason for Lee Kwan's dislike of Sawyer was simply because she was a huge liability. Ever since the warfare between the "Bloodhound of Florencia" and the NSA operators had broken out in the city, the Thai government had been doing quite a bit of unwanted poking and prodding. Lee Kwan knew that Sawyer had a long history with working for Mr. Chang. If those involved with the Thai crackdown were to get a hold of Sawyer, it would be a disastrous strike to the Triads in Roanapur, since...
"...She knows where the bodies are," he said aloud to himself, his voice almost coming out as a venomous hiss.
There were many problems to deal with. It was most likely that the child who had stolen the 100K from the soon to be very dead Thaksin was hanging around with the other street kids of Roanapur. Those little brats still needed to be hunted down, and they needed to be punished. Then there was the issue with that cleaner, who was too much of a liability to be ignored. Lee Kwan needed her to "disappear." Yes, there were many, many problems...
He displayed a devious smirk. Not that he would personally dirty his hands with such filth. Surely, the likes of him just weren't suited to do something so... low. Jobs such as those were only fit for trash that maggots would refuse to feast upon. Luckily, Lee Kwan had managed to stumble upon such an individual.
He had hired an idiot foreigner, mostly likely American from the southern accent, a disgusting man wearing an eye patch, a piece of garbage that appeared out of nowhere and somehow gravitated towards Roanapur. The leader of the Wo Triad distinctly remembered the simpleton laughing wildly and going into a strange dance when he had shown the hired hitman a picture of the cleaner, one of his targets. Lee Kwan had no idea why the man had seemed so amused when he had seen the photograph, and frankly, he didn't care. Lee Kwan had provided enough information and directions for the moronic dolt to follow, and all he cared about was that the hired foreigner completed the tasks that were given. Though not without proper precautions, of course.
The hitman with the eye patch was easily convinced, easily manipulated, easily tricked. Without the foreigner's knowledge, Lee Kwan had made sure to send several of his men to track his movements, to make sure he wouldn't screw up and would follow through with the job. And once that idiot hunted down the children, retrieved the 100K, and killed off the cleaner, Lee Kwan would have him shot on sight.
In addition to feeling that the hitman was more suited for the despicable job of hunting down the children that had the money and killing the cleaner, Lee Kwan could use the foreigner as something to cover up the details that linked the Wo Triad leader to the event if and when Mr. Chang caught wind of the incident. "Oh, Chang da ge, for absolutely no reason at all, this sick, sick man suddenly showed up in the city and started killing street children! Your cleaner? The poor thing, she was making her usual rounds in the streets and got murdered by the aforementioned sick man. I eventually found out about him and sent my men to take care of the matter."
It was the perfect plan. Mei guanxi. No problem.
Finally finding peace of mind, Lee Kwan laid back leisurely in his seat and closed his eyes. Everything was planned, everything was set, everything was arranged to his comfort. Now all he had to do was relax and let the events unfold.
--
"Why?" said Parang finally, his voice echoing in the enclosed space of the sewage pipe.
Gaavrila blinked. She was strapped onto his back, arms wrapped loosely around his neck as he moved carefully down the dark circular passageway, carefully straddling the filth that ran beneath. The rest of the group had gone on ahead. Only the girl Rohingya followed, dragging the makeshift wheelchair along.
"Why what?" she replied, breathing shallowly through her mouth. No one breathed through their nose down in the sewers.
"You know what I mean," said Parang, speaking slowly in English. "What made you to draw a gun on Two-hands? Nobody lives to tell when they do that."
"That woman looked afraid of me," said Gaavrila, wincing as he stumbled. A throb of pain shot up her spine from the useless remnants of her legs. "She looked like she was about to be sick. Then she... she made me angry... and I thought maybe I could scare her off. All the stories, they couldn't possibly be true."
"They're true," said Parang flatly."Two-hands is a killer, one of those soulless demons you keep talking about. They say she used a child as a shield in a gunfight once. I can't believe she let you live."
He paused, "I can't protect you if you do stupid things. All I have is a machete – against guns..."
Gaavrila pressed her chin lightly into the back of his neck. "I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to do. And then she had me down on the ground and I was the one who was scared. We had to do something for Niken."
Parang shook his head.
"She's one of us," protested Gaavrila. "We all have to help each other or the city will eat us up one by one. I... we won't let her give up. We will not lose her."
Ahead in the shadows, a figure waited for the three stragglers at the junction. It was one of the twins, his hard eyes and teeth gleaming from the light trickling down through a grate from the street above.
"We have to go right, through the Garden," he spoke directly to Gaavrila as if to a commander. "Chaiyo checked out the usual way, there's a police car parked there. Since that business with the farang shooting up the city, they've been all over the place."
Parang shuddered, "Merciful Buddha..."
"They're just statues," said Gaavrila. "Be strong. Lead the way, Alak."
--
In the twilight, the statuary somehow became malevolent, almost alive to the children who slipped through the Garden towards the safety of the abandoned warehouse.
The Buddhist temple had long since been razed, replaced by a fenced in lot filled with heavy machinery: bulldozers, backhoes and loaders. The Hell Garden had been left untouched, perhaps as an ironic reminder of what had befallen the city – much like the faceless Buddha that faced out to sea at the harbor entrance.
The statues, worn and flaking paint, depicted the fates of the damned and the punishments alloted by Phya Yom, the death king; writhing figures in giant pots being roasted, sinners being ripped apart by snarling garishly painted demons.
Parang stopped as he always did before one peculiarly gruesome display. Gaavrila hugged him for comfort. Rohingya stumbled up behind them clutching her side.
"If you meet the Devil in this life," said Parang, chanting the familiar words from the sign. "don't postpone merit-making which will help you to defeat him in the next life."
"I forgive," whispered Gaavrila in his ear. "God forgives. Don't worry about the next life. Keep moving. Rohi needs to rest, so do you."
--
The twins, Alak and Chaiyo, carried Gaavrila to the pile of blankets in the center of the warehouse floor. They put her down carefully, resting the girl's back against a pillar and then flanked her, standing at attention.
Around them swirled a mob of poorly dressed children - almost all of them under the age of fourteen, chattering excitedly at the arrival of Gaavrila's gang. They clustered frantically around the Japanese girl Ayame, who held several garbage bags filled with gathered food scraps over her head. Gaavrila wrinkled her nose, the smell of body odor was overwhelming and never familiar, but it was preferable to the stench of the sewers.
"Rohi," shouted Gaavrila. "Help Ayame before they knock her over."
"I fucking hate this," shrieked Ayame, kicking vigorously as Rohingya pushed her way through the mob. "Back.. the fuck away you little brats!"
Parang smacked the flat of his machete against the pillar twice, it made a ringing sound. "Everybody! Shut up and sit down. Gaavrila has announcements."
It took about five minutes to restore order and to get the assembled crowd of children seated and silent so the food could be distributed. During that time, Gaavrila kept her eyes closed and prayed: She prayed for the group, and she prayed she could keep the pain that gnawed her at her broken body at bay. She had to be strong, stronger than this wretched place that had killed her father and so many others.
She opened her eyes and surveyed the seated crowd.
"Tomorrow, at two," she spoke slowly in English. Parang translated the words into Thai, "Another white van will pull up on the side road out here. Dr. Chiet was able to get the agency up in Pattaya to agree to take more of us out of Roanapur. Pattaya isn't much better, but at least there are people who are trying to help us street kids there – and you won't have to hide all the time."
She paused, "However, they can only take ten – that's all they have room for at the shelter at this time. Dr. Chiet is trying to get other shelters involved."
The wave of disappointment was almost palpable. She could see the furtive glances being shared among the children. Who would be the lucky ones, who would get out this time?
Ayame spoke rapidly over the silence, "There's a Japanese consulate in Pattaya. Let me go. I can't take this anymore."
Gaavrila shrugged. She was tired of the constant complaining and non-stop whining. Ayame had shown precious little gratitude since they had found her wandering half naked and dazed in the streets. "If you can find a spot in the van, go. Maybe you can cling to the top."
It was a petty remark, and Gaavrila immediately regretted what she had said. "We also rescued Niken," she continued in her raspy voice. "We found out she'd been forced into working for the mafiya. And we were able to get her free, with a little help..."
Her voice trailed away. The children were standing and moving away in clusters towards their respective locations throughout the warehouse.
"She fed you, she was always out getting food for you," she shouted furiously. "It's not her fault..."
Parang knelt down beside, he had stopped translating. "They don't care. They don't trust her anymore. The business a while back with the Romanians, when two of our own were killed. And no one believes she was forced to be a prostitute. She chose it after that encounter in the sewers with the Bandaged Man."
"Where is she?" Gaavrila looked around frantically. "Didn't she get here first with Mikey?"
Alak and Chaiyo shrugged and spoke simultaneously. "We didn't see them after we ran away from all the shooting. We thought they came here first."
"What a waste of time," Gaavrila ground her teeth together. "I hope they didn't get picked up by Chief Watsup and his goons. We'll never see them..."
There was a banging noise that echoed throughout the abandoned factory, children sprang to their feet grabbing at meager belongings. Someone wailed. Parang and the twins sprang into action, moving quickly towards their pre-determined spots to speed up the evacuation. Rohingya and Ayame grabbed the wheelchair and dragged it over to Gaavrila.
The banging noise was followed by two more. Then a single knock, and then three more. Gaavrila sighed and relaxed. The lost sheep had returned.
Mikey squeezed halfway through an opening in the wall; one of the many bolt holes the children had prepared throughout the building. He passed a heavy duffel bag to the waiting Parang. Mikey was swearing terribly as he pulled the struggling girl with him through the entry. The twins moved in to restrain Niken as she kicked and swung wildly at them.
"She tried running away," shouted Mikey, lurching to his feet. He was bleeding from his nose. "We put our goddamn lives on the line with Two-hands and the Triads, and she tries bolting."
Five of the nearest children surged forward shouting and engulfed Niken in a welter of fists and feet, pushing aside the unprepared twins. She went down with a shriek, curling up in a ball as the blows rained down. They tried to grab her hair and smash her head into the concrete floor.
"Stop it! Stop it!" yelled Gaavrila over the uproar. Ayama was likewise shrieking. Rohingya, being mute, waved her arms.
Parang and the twins regrouped and waded into the fray, throwing and pushing back the smaller children. In a moment they had control of the situation and they dragged Niken over to where Gaavrila was seated.
Niken stood swaying between the twins, favoring one leg, her long black hair hid the bloodied face. Gaavrila was shocked, there had been no time during the frantic retreat from the alleyway to notice anything peculiar about the thirteen year old girl. But there was a horrid similarity to the untied military boots, the unzipped shorts held up by a military web belt, the black tank-top, the fake tattoo on the right shoulder.
"Bozhe moy!" Gaavrila blurted out. "You look just like that killer!"
Niken collapsed in a heap. Her hands covered her face. She rocked back and forth, unable to answer.
"Oh, it's worse than you think!" snarled Mikey. "Take a look in the duffel bag! We're totally screwed! She was going to run off and let us catch hell from the Triads.
Parang knelt down in front of Gaavrila with the duffel bag. He unzipped the bag and they both looked in and gasped. In the long silence, all the children gathered round in a tight circle staring at the bundles of money stuffed in the bag.
"I could get a plane ticket, go home to Japan," gasped Ayame. "Get a lawyer and press charges against my parents."
Gaavrila crossed her arms over her thin chest. In her mind's eye she saw herself in St. Petersburg, the doctors fitting her with prosthetics so she could walk again. The sun was shining and she was free of concerns. Then she looked up at the stunned, greedy faces around her. All except for Mikey.
"Don't you get it?" he exclaimed. "The Triads will want this back. All their goons will be out looking for us. Not only the mafiya, but the police will be brought in. And you know what happens when the police round up street kids."
Parang nodded his head in agreement, "He's right. What are we going to do?"
Gaavrila gathered her thoughts. "Alak and Chaiyo, I want you to check all the trip wires around the building – make sure that if anyone comes near here, we'll be warned. Parang, talk to the kids – I want eyes watching in every direction. When it gets dark I want scouts outside watching the road and the garden. Everybody else has to be ready to bolt for the sewers or whatever they're comfortable with if we're found out."
She reached forward and zipped the bag shut, hiding the contents. "It's too late now. We have to lay low tonight and tomorrow. No one goes in or out until the van shows up from Pattaya. Then we'll send Parang to get Dr. Chiet. He'll help us. We'll need someone to talk... talk to the Russians I guess. I will swallow my pride. They can help."
Gaavrila pulled the bag close. "I'll hold onto the bag."
Niken looked up. Weaving English and Malay together she spitefully asked, "Kenapa awak? Why you? Camner kami nak percaya kat awak? How can we trust you?"
Niken flinched as Parang raised his hand.
Gaavrila laughed with a tinge of hysteria and waved a hand futilely over the bandaged stumps of her legs. "Trust me? Trust me? Look at me? I'm the only one here who can't walk away. I'm not going anywhere."