Last Mission

She was tied spread eagled to a king-sized bed. For the first time since her capture, she was no longer naked. A front-hooked bra top covered her breasts, and a long skirt covered her spread legs. Johnny's two trusted bodyguards, the wiry man and the fat man, had dressed her. Their theory was that most men preferred to have the fantasy of making love to a girl next door rather than to a paid whore.

Susan had worried that she might be killed as soon as she talked. That would put an end to her personal quest for vengeance. It was a gamble that she was willing to take. Although the odds were heavily against her, she could not see any other way.

After she had implicated Joey and Ivan, Johnny contacted Paul.

"Want to make some more money?" Johnny asked.

"What are you offering?" Unknown to Johnny, Paul had just completed another mission and was in Hong Kong.

"Same as before."

"One hundred grand?"

"Exactly."

"Do you need to take care of a man or do you need information?"

"Information about who ordered the hit on Rocky."

"I'll give you two names, but it'll cost twice as much."

"You're greedy." Johnny said it in a matter of fact manner.

"It's just business." Paul was not offended.

"I'll pay one hundred big ones. If the first answer is what I expect, I'll pay the other hundred big ones."

"I need to see the money first. I call you back when it's wired to my account."

Johnny walked back to the warehouse and gave banking instructions to the fat man. Although he spoke in Mandarin, Susan understood every word. She had to fight the urge to laugh out loud. Her plan was working.

When Paul saw the first hundred grand in his account, he confirmed that Joey was the mastermind behind the attempted assassination. After the second grand, Paul listed Ivan as a co-conspirator. Johnny's tone was calm and even as he repeated the news to the fat and thin men in Mandarin. Susan dared not opened her eyes for fear that her eyes might betray her celebratory mood.

Immediately after obtaining positive confirmation that Susan told the truth, Johnny ordered that Susan be taken to the whorehouse, which was across the border in Shenzhen. Rich businessmen in Hong Kong would be shuffled to Shenzhen to experience women from all over North America, Russia, and Asia. Johnny liked to think of himself as an entrepreneur providing pleasures that were taboo in many societies.

They allowed her to sleep in a spread eagled position for several hours before the training started. Unlike in Dallas, the training regime in China was very basic. Women were repeatedly raped until they were numbed and desensitized.

After the second day, she heard the skinny man say to the fat man in Mandarin. "Have you heard Joey was shot last night in his girlfriend's house?"

"Yeah. I heard Mr. Chan hired Paul to do it." The fat man raised his eyebrows to show he was not surprised.

"That Paul. Have you heard he was paid another $100,000 to off Joey?"

"And another $100,000 to kill Ivan."

"Ivan is dead too?"

"He sure is. A pal of mine was hired to make the bodies disappear."

"I wonder what Mr. Chan sees in Paul. He must have made something like half a million of our hard-earned money by now."

"Be careful not to talk like that." The fat man had been around longer, and knew it was never a good idea to second guess the supreme leader.

Overhearing the conversation gave Susan the energy to continue enduring the long nights.

Like the other women in the Shenzhen facility, Susan had to handle 3-4 men every hour, 6-7 hours each night. After five days, she was considered seasoned and trained.

At the crack of dawn one day, the fat man examined Susan closely before he called Mr. Chan. As usual, the men conversed in Mandarin.

"She's ready to service the clients," he said to Mr. Chan in Mandarin. It was obvious he was waiting for Johnny to make the final decision.

"What do you think I should do?" Johnny had been with his trusted bodyguards so long he consulted them from time to time.

"If I may say so sir, I don't see how she can ever be trusted with our clients. Best case, she kills our clients and disappears. Worse case, she kills them and comes after us."

"Give me some time to think it over."

Johnny wished there was another way. But the more he thought about it, the more he agreed with the fat man's line of thought. He called back after 15 minutes.

"Fatty, make her dig her own grave at the construction site. Do it tonight." The construction site was green dragon slang for the remote areas outside Shenzhen, where the enemies of the gang were buried.

What a waste, Johnny thought. Susan was the only woman he had ever met that was mentally tough enough to be his equal. She was the type he respected; his kind of gal. Together, they would have ruled the criminal world. Too bad it was never meant to be.

Although Susan was able to only hear one side of the conversation, she figured out what was about to happen. She knew her last chance of escape would have to be in the next few hours.

Susan was seated between Fatty and Skinny. Her wrists were handcuffed together in front of her. Her left elbow was chained to Fatty's elbow, and her right to Skinny's. The car, a Buick built in China, was rolling along at a steady clip.

At the border, the driver rolled down the window and handed over $1,000. The immigration officer glanced for just a second into the car, saw the green dragon tattoo on the driver's arm, kept the money, and waved them on. He pretended not to see the naked woman sandwiched between the two men.

The Buick continued another 50 miles north, pulled off the highway, and meandered along the two lane village roads. The full moon was shining overhead when the Buick climbed almost to the top of a small hill. The three passengers exited.

The driver opened the trunk, removed a single spade, and passed it to Fatty. The last task the driver did was to unlock the elbow locks.

"See you two in the morning," the driver said to the two men gleefully.

Susan was made to walk in front of the two armed men, her wrists still handcuffed in front. At the top of the hill were two rectangular shapes of loose soil.

Fatty stood between the freshly covered graves and ordered in English, "Start digging a big long square." Fatty tossed the spade to Susan's feet.

Susan balanced her cuffed hands to pick up the spade. Dirt and mud covered her body as she dug and removed the lumpy earth. Both men stood on her left, holding a beer can with one hand and a gun with the other. She dug fast.

The full moon was now behind the men, casting long shadows. She was deep in the ground and could no longer see both men, but she could see their shadows.

Fatty said to Skinny in his native Chinese dialect, "Watch her while I take a piss."

Susan saw the shorter shadow move and disappear. Only the taller shadow remained. She looked at the angle of the moon, the length of the man's shadow, and estimated that he was standing two feet away from the edge.

"Fuck! Another rock," Susan yelled.

She saw the shadow moved in her direction. Skinny was looking into the hole, his right foot only inches away from the edge. Pretending to lift the spade to break the rock, she swung it above her, twisting it at the last minute so the sharp end clawed inside his right kneecap. Skinny's screams drowned out the sound of his fall into the hole.

Another piercing scream filled the air as the spade was jammed into his neck, instantly decapitating him.

Susan picked up the gun from Skinny and was ready for Fatty when he came for her, the fly to his pants still open. Fatty was firing wildly and never had a chance. She squeezed the trigger calmly, dropping him with two shots to the head.

TO BE CONTINUED