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Al followed behind her. Sometimes he accidentally admired her ass, the quality of which made the slip understandable, but then he would remind himself of what he’d seen back in that hotel room and it would be easy to refocus on watching for threats.
There were more obligatory farewells out front, but no one tried to kill them or drag them into the basement or anything, and soon they were on the road.
Once alone in Al’s truck, the natural thing to do would be to ask, “So what was that all about?” So that’s what Al did.
“What was that all about?” he asked. He was, after all, supposed to be gathering intel for Silky.
It wasn’t as though Tanya’s bottomless reserves of sincerity were winning him over, or that he’d become invested enough in this little socioeconomic rescue mission to start caring about the outcome of her doomed quest. No, it couldn’t possibly be any of those things.
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Song Ai & Al
Thursday Late-Afternoon, 28 November, 2075, Chinatown, SeattleTanya lets out a sigh. In my so perfect, rose colored, beer enhanced world, everything would be going great. The truth is somewhat closer to your own expectations and proves that I have a long road to travel yet. Those three men are potential investors in my project. I have had them soooooo close to committing funds before, but the recent troubles with Rick Wu and the bad publicity of the past few days has them a bit more……….cautious. Still, all is not lost, yet. I have at least got them to commit to holding their final decisions for a couple of weeks to give me time to get things back on track.”
She pauses for a bit then waves her hand. “I have other potential investors to talk to and I have not yet completely worked your fusion concept into the pitch. I am still confident that I can make this happen. Could you please take me to the small motel at the coordinates I am sending you so I can change back to Song Ai? I need to return to the casino and see what I can do there.”
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“Motel. Roger roger.” Al took an indirect route, and when they arrived, he checked the room ahead of her. After she went in, he stepped out. He had no desire to see that transformation again.
Waiting outside, he sent a quick update to Silk. He chuckled at the thought of himself, a simple working joe, as a spy. But if he was going to be one he figured he’d be a good one. Anything worth doing was worth doing right. Or so his ma had told him.
So what about this gig for Tanya? The spying was incidental, and Silky knowing more about what was up was actually more likely to help Tanya’s little crusade than hurt it. So spying aside, here he was doing this thing. And, truth be told, he was half-assing it. Not that he didn’t have his reasons. First off, the best thing would be to just kill all these damned pimps and pederasts. And second, it was a stupid idea.
What was that thing people said? If it’s stupid and it works, it’s not stupid…no, no, no, that wouldn’t apply here. Her idea was stupid. And it wasn’t going to work.
But he thought of a new one. If it’s a good thing, and it doesn’t work, it’s still a good thing….
Hunh…
Well, not if it ended up doing more harm than good….road to Hell, and all that….
Before Al could finish revising his personal lexicon of quaint aphorisms, Song Ai emerged. He grunted a greeting and they headed out.
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Song Ai & Al
Thursday Late-Afternoon, 28 November, 2075, Chinatown, SeattleSong Ai is quiet during the ride back to Chinatown, her mind full of it own thoughts of what she is facing. It had all seemed so much easier a couple of weeks ago, but the reality and gravity of the situation are a bit more than she had considered. Still, her resolve pushes her forward. After all, there are so many people in need here; people that she can help.
Once back at the casino, Song Ai confers with Lei Tung about the repairs and about finding more people to fill the vacancies in her guard force. Lei Tung tells her that filling the guard slots will be no problem, as there are many young people vying to fill them. Her chief of security glances with undisguised dislike at Al as he adds that there are some who question her decision to keep the man around as her personal bodyguard instead of selecting someone who is Chinese.
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They were speaking right in front of Al. In Chinese, assuming he couldn’t understand. But there was no mistaking Lei Tung’s look, and it was easy eniough to guess at what he said to Song Ai. Before she could answer her chief minion, Al said, “Have a care there, Tungster baby. Ol’ Al might suspect ya ain’t fully on board with the Rainbow Coalition. As a card-carryin’ advocate for diversity an’ inclusion, might jist have ta take exception ta yer problematic attitude. I mean, come on now, Tungsterino amigo, I’m lookin’ around at yer staff here, an’ can we really say it looks like America?”
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Song Ai & Al
Thursday Late-Afternoon, 28 November, 2075, Chinatown, SeattleSong Ai gives nothing away when Al speaks, but the look on Lei Tung’s face is priceless as he reacts to Al’s words. The chief of security looks angry then takes a cue from his mistress and bows his head to Al. “Forgive me…………….Alsterino. I am sorry for my rudeness. Of course, you have proven yourself to be an admirable asset to Fu Shing and I bow to the wisdom of Song Ai in contracting your services. Please accept my apology.”
The words sound genuine enough and the bow is to the precisely correct height, but Al cannot be sure that the man’s smile extends all the way to his eyes. Maybe it does.
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Al chuckled at Lei Tung’s veiled jibes. At least the guy wasn’t a pussy.
Then his earlier thoughts about how he was half-assing this job came back to his mind in a rush.
And he bowed back. Probably the wrong amount. Then he put out his hand.
“Well, compadre, as assets go, reckon you know this place better’n ol’ Al, an’ I daresay better’n Dona Quijote here. Me, I’m fresh onna job, don’t know the lay o’ the land nor the lingo. Reckon yer gon’ have ta show me around sometime.”
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Song Ai & Al
Thursday Late-Afternoon, 28 November, 2075, Chinatown, SeattleLei Tung looks surprised for a moment and he pauses, as if trying to determine how sincere Al is. His eyes flick to Song Ai for a moment then back to Al and this time his smile seems to be genuine as he nods and takes Al’s hand in a firm but non-confrontational grip. “Perhaps we have gotten off on the wrong foot. There has been a great deal of stress here, lately. I will confess that your bluntness can be a bit disconcerting, but perhaps it is up to me to adapt a bit. I welcome your aid and would be glad to show you around and I can provide you with a good translator for when I cannot be near you. When would you like to do a walkabout, Kemo Sabe?”
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“Well, reckon that’s up ta the boss lady here.”
Al couldn’t help but wonder what his good friend Lei Tung would say if he knew that Dear Leader Song Ai was as lily-white as Al. And, just as important, how long she could keep the secret.
“Reckon she’s keepin’ me pretty busy. An’ I ain’t givin’ up my shows.”
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Song Ai & Al
Thursday Late-Afternoon, 28 November, 2075, Chinatown, SeattleLei Tung smiles and bows again. “Very well, but please consider the offer open to you at any time. I am sending you my personal commcode so you can get me anytime.” He bows again and looks at Song Ai. “I will be about my duties as you have instructed, Song Ai. Unless you have any other instructions?”
Song Ai shakes her head. “No, Lei Tung. Thank you for your presence. I would like to meet with the replacement security detail when you get that sorted out, though.”
Lei Tung nods and walks away as Song Ai turns to Al. “Well, that went a bit better than I had thought it might. Lei Tung seems to have taken a very sudden liking to you, don’t you think?”
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“Ever’one does, sooner or later,” Al replied carelessly. Of course it was true. Al congratulated himself on having possibly the most magnetic personality in the world. But what he also knew was that Lei Tung was a pimp, a poisoner, and more than those a politician. He could be used, but never trusted.
For now, though, whatever advanced Tanya’s hopeless cause was the order of the day. And if that meant making nice with the minions, so be it. Al had just shaken hands with a Triad – if that didn’t signify he was on board, nothing would.
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Song Ai & Al
Thursday Evening, 28 November, 2075, Chinatown, SeattleThe rest of the afternoon passes quickly as Song Al and Al inspect the ongoing repairs and venture out into the street. Song Ai crosses the wide avenue and turns to look back at the casino. Shaking her head, she laments the damage to the building and its reputation, knowing that it will take a while to build both back, and that will be near impossible as long as Rick Wu has some sort of pull over the 88s. She might need to rethink her master plan and move more slowly than she wants to. Solidify the power base, rebuild the casino/hotel and its reputation, then begin to slowly integrate her hospital concept to Chinatown. As it is, she will need more time just to line up enough financing to break ground. She turns to Al and sighs. “I believe that you are right about my dream, Al. I will need to move more slowly on that project while I improve the casino and Fu Shing’s position in the Triad. I will not give up on my dream, but I may have to delay its implementation for a bit. Thank you for the breath of common sense.”
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Al winked and walked Song Ai back into the casino. The last attack had been carefully orchestrated, and he was assuming there were spies on the surrounding streets night and day. Once back inside he offered to let Song Ai buy him a beer. Once they were alone, he said, “Listen, about that outside, no one never accused ol’ Al o’ havin’ much sense. But when yer talkin’ ’bout reorganizin’ an entire local economy, yeah, a longer game seems like the smart play. But reckon I’m glad yer stickin’ with. Still think ever’thin yer doin’s fundamentally flawed on account o’ yer still in bed with all these damned Chinese evildoers, but since there is some qualified merit to yer point about the dangers o’ creatin’ a vacuum, well, the hospital’s a great way ta fill that, provided you can swing it.”
He helped himself to another drink from her bar. “So if we’s in it longer term, yer back ta the question of yer road ta git there. Yer talkin’ about rebuildin’ the casino – shee-it, don’t that bring us back ta square one, usin’ yer considerable treasure an’ talents ta build up the corrupt an’ exploitative organization yer settin’ out ta git rid of? Somewhere between here in gangster world an’ yer healthcare utopia, they’s gotta be some sorta base we can build local power from that won’t leave our hands so dirty we won’t be able ta take new steps forward. Say, what about all them Chinaman mutual aid societies? Ain’t they got community groups runnin’ charities an’ doin’ cultural shit an’ poolin’ resources ta help those what’s in need? We could align with one o’ them, use that as a base from which ta productively displace the influence o’ the Triads.”
He looked at her and idly wondered if she could do Sukie Redflower with that ware of hers. He’d always liked Sukie Redflower.
“Course, ya shift gears thataway, yer gon’ burn a hell of a lot o’ bridges….”
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Song Ai & Al
Thursday Evening, 28 November, 2075, Chinatown, SeattleSong Ai nurses her drink as she listens to Al, nodding as he finishes. “Well, there is a good bit of wisdom in what you say, Al. However, I think I need to disagree on the part about rebuilding the casino. First, it was a significant source of income for the Triad. Legitimate income. Fu Shing will need income to help Chinatown recover from the past few days. I have been informed that all of the structural damage is superficial and can be easily repaired. The greater damage is our reputation. It will likely take some time for the tourists to come back, but we can weather that as long as I can stop the attacks. To do that, I will need to get the support of the remaining lieutenants and rout out any more supporters of Rick Wu.”
She pauses a moment. “Do you know that the Triads are actually outgrowths of Mutual Aid Societies? Most of their community and charitable activities were assumed by the Triads long ago. I am already sending out people to look into what can be done for the people of the area, no matter which lieutenant controls the territory. I am having some small success in that, but it could be more. Would you recommend trying to separate those activities from the Triad in an effort to garner support?”
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Al spread his hands in defeat. No question the casino thing was by far the more glamorous option.
“Nah. Like ya say, lotta folks here, they like the Triads. Cuz yeah, there are those mutual aid society roots. An’ yeah, they don’t trust outsiders – ee gee the cops – though o’ course that’s a damned vicious circle engendered by dependence on the Triad leeches. But yer probably right that, fer better or worse, the Triads are an avenue ta traction with the community. Me, I think evil always begets evil, no matter how ya dress it up. An’ I think workin’ with these thugs is gon’ do mare harm than good. So maybe I’m here ta jist try an’ minimize that as best I can. Or maybe I believe ya got maybe a one percent chance o’ buildin’ yer little dream. Three percent, with ol’ Al on board. Whatever the reason, reckon I’ll back yer project fer the time bein’. Fair warnin’, though, I see any child pimpin’ or schoolyard dope pushin’, blood’s gon’ be summarily spilt, an’ you’ll jist have ta respond however ya have ta respond.”
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Song Ai & Al
Thursday Evening, 28 November, 2075, Chinatown, SeattleSong Al nods. “Of course, Al. I feel the same way about forced prostitution of people of any age and I would add forced pornography as well. And selling drugs to minors is just wrong and helps perpetuate the crime by addicting people early in life. I will not stand for any of that.”
She finishes her drink and stands. “Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go see Fu Shing and retire for the night. Feel free to stay as long as you like. Everything you need is on the house.”
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Al almost opened his mouth when Song Ai started reeling off ethical inconsistencies, but thought better of it. He’d known who she was – the good with the bad – when he’d signed on.
So he simply gave her an offhand “Oyasumi nasai,” to which she did not surprise him with a passable Japanese response. And he was at last left to his own devices.
Back to his room, rare T-bone with peppercorn sauce and spicy wedges, lots of beer, and urban brawl highlights on the big screen.
And then the usual complete inability to sleep.
It was about 2:30 when he went downstairs. Not finding Lei Fung in the security office or on the floor, he managed to pry out of a recalcitrant doorman that the lieutenant had left for the evening.
Al got in his truck and went to the man’s building. He didn’t mind how much it might give away that he already knew where the guy lived. Neither the building locks nor the security on the Triad underboss’s room were a problem, though Al was impressed that the man had additional homespun measures in place for when he was in.
Al sit in a chair across from the man’s bed. “Arighty, ya said the offer was open at any time. Reckon I got a moment or three right now, it’s all the same ta you.”
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Song Ai
Late Thursday Evening, 28 November, 2075, Chinatown, SeattleSong Ai leaves Al to his own devices, or vices, and takes the private elevator to the penthouse suite, emerging to face the security team there. After passing inspection, she passes on into the master bedroom, where Fu Shing is waiting for her. Song Ai carefully closes the door behind her before approaching the bed and the man in it, removing her clothing as she walks. Fu Shing’s eyes follow every movement as he waits for her to join him in the bed. Both are already aware of the doctor’s message indicating that Fu Shing is well enough for most normal activities and they engage in wordless lovemaking that comes close to exceeding the limitations set by the doctor. Afterwards, the two have a long conversation on the current state of the casino and the Triad. Decisions are made and the two drift off to sleep together.
Al
Early Friday Morning, 29 November, 2075, Lei Tung’s Residence, Chinatown, SeattleLei Tung replies in a voice that would seem to indicate that he has not been asleep. “I have been expecting you to show up here after your last visit. If you are here to kill me, I hope it will not be an easy death for whichever one of us survives, if either of us do. I am very impressed by your skill set and have few doubts that you could take me unless I get lucky or prove to be more devious. If you are here to talk, I am listening and will tell you what I am allowed to.”
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“Well sheee-it, drama queen. I done jist said what I’m here fer. Ya told me you’d show me around whenever I had time. I’m gon’ git a beer. Reckon I know where they are.”
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Al
Early Friday Morning, 29 November, 2075, Lei Tung’s Residence, Chinatown, SeattleBy the time Al returns with his beer, Lei Tung is up, dressed, and sitting in a chair. “We can leave now if you want a tour of Chinatown, or we can wait a bit if you want to ask questions first. Your call, Kemo Sabe.”
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