Chapter 56

  Kasem watched in anger and amazement as Shawn pummeled the Tae Kwon Do Master. Every move that Master Chong threw at him, he blocked and countered with hard punches and kicks to the head and body. Then Shawn started to divert from the classic Tae Kwon Do to mixed martial arts with devastating effects. Chong was bleeding from the corner of his mouth and from a cut above his left eye. Kasem had seen enough and stepped in to protect his friend just as Choi entered the room.

  "I think he's had enough punishment for today. What the hell is wrong with you?" Kasem said angrily.

  Shawn was taking out his rage and frustration on his training partner, and it wasn't until Kasem stepped in that he realized he was out of control.

  "I'm sorry, Chong, I let my emotions get away from me. Please forgive me." Shawn said with genuine regret.

  "I'll live. You fight pretty good for an old man. I guess I earned my money today."

  Chong sat down and rubbed his bruised ribs. Despite wearing a mouthpiece and headgear, Chong's face was not pretty. Choi, who had just returned from checking his e-mail and voice messages, walked over to Shawn and sat in a chair beside him.

  "You want something to drink?" Shawn asked.

  "You got any Tiger down here?"

  "In the fridge behind the bar, help yourself."

  “Your lips bleeding.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  After Choi returned with a bottle of Tiger, Shawn asked, “So, were you able to get a hold of David?”

  Som had told Tim to turn off his cell phone and only turn it on to check his messages and make short calls. When he did this, he wanted him to drive ten minutes away from where he was staying and never turn his cell on in the same location. The same was true for his laptop, which Som actually didn’t want him to use at all. Choi sat down and took a long drink before answering.

  “No, I just got his voicemail again. I’m beginning to worry about him.”

  “That makes two of us,” Shawn replied with genuine empathy.

  “I did, however, connect with Captain Tong again. They found the Toyota Hilux the assholes were driving. It was reported stolen yesterday. Everything inside was doused with bleach. Obviously, they didn’t want the police to find any fingerprints or DNA. But I do have some good news. It seems that the bastard that you got a picture of is a dangerous man. In fact, not long ago, he killed four people in Prague and tried to kill several others. He was arrested, but he escaped with the help of some friends. They also killed a police officer in the process. His name is Ivan Rakov. He’s wanted for various crimes in at least eight countries, including the U.S. He’s Russian and has a long criminal record. They don’t know who he’s currently working for, but he’s a hired gun, mostly for wet work.”

  “He sounds like a charming fellow.”

  Neither man said anything for a while. They just sat and contemplated this new information. Choi got up and pointed at the near-empty water bottle in Shawn’s hand.

  “You want something a little stronger?”

  Shawn simply nodded. Choi returned with two beers and sat back down. After

  After a long pause in the conversation, Shawn finally rubbed his beard and asked a question, speaking mainly to himself, “Who are these fucking people?”

  “Captain Tong also said that the Royal Thai Police was sending a task force to Phuket to find these men. It would be a feather in their cap if they could capture this man.”

  “Do they know how they got into the country with guns and sound suppressors?”

  “He said these men seem to get in and out of countries without any problem. His guess was that this team had flown into the country below radar surveillance or had come by boat somewhere close to Phuket. He said they may have had assets already on the ground.”

  “That’s certainly a possibility.”

  “He also said that they may have already left the country.”

  “Oh, I hardly believe that. Their mission wasn’t finished. I think they’re still looking for us. Apparently, I have what they want, and they are not going to stop until they get it or until we’re both dead.”

  “I was thinking the same thing, but I was trying to cheer you up,” Choi said.

  “Thanks… but it didn’t work,” Shawn said as he took a long pull from his cold beer.

  *****

  Bennett felt like a schoolboy as he walked home. The night had been perfect. Miss Hottie had made him lasagna from scratch, one of his favorite meals. A Dean Martin CD played on her Bang and Olufsen sound system, lights were dimmed, and scented candles were lit. She wore a low-cut, short white dress that was almost radiant in the candlelight. At one point in the evening, she dropped a table knife, and she bent down to pick it up, and her full breasts nearly fell out of the provocative dress. She looked up and blushed when she found him staring at her twins. She slowly placed her hand over the area in question and continued her quest for the knife with a smile.

  The lasagna was perfect, as was the salad, bread, and wine. After dinner, he helped her pick up the dishes, and she directed him to her couch, where she snuggled in next to him with another bottle of wine. They watched an old classic movie from 1934, It Happened One Night, with Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert. They kissed often, and both were just content to hold each other and watch the movie that was produced in a simpler time. During the evening, his cell phone rang several times, much to the dismay of Miss Hottie, and he finally shut it off. He wasn’t about to spoil his evening for any reason. It had been too long since he had been with a woman. Especially one as beautiful as the woman he was with tonight.

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  After the movie ended, Bennett thanked Miss Hottie for a wonderful evening and informed her that he had an early appointment the next morning and regretted that he had to leave so early. She walked him to the door, then she moved into his firm body and kissed him goodnight. After an awkward moment of silence, she told him that he was an impeccable gentleman and that the evening was perfect, but the next time he came over for dinner, she would also make him breakfast. He smiled and said, “That sounds wonderful.” Then he kissed her goodnight.

  It was just after midnight, and Bennett was walking past Charles Whitmore's townhouse when he heard someone call out his name. It was Mr. Whitmore, sitting on his balcony with a drink in his hand.

  "Nice night for a stroll, Mr. Bennett; you care to join me for a nightcap? The saint is visiting her sister in Virginia, and I hate to drink alone… unless, of course… if I'm forced to, which is sometimes the case, old boy."

  Bennett laughed and said, "Yes, it is a beautiful night, but I'm afraid I've reached my limit, sir, although I appreciate the offer, Mr. Whitmore. Goodnight, sir."

  "Goodnight…oh, by the way, I saw that van again. It didn't have the same company logo on the door. The logo was for a plumbing company, yet I'm almost positive it was the same van. It was parked just down the street from your place. I saw two men get out, and then the van drove away sometime later, but I didn't see the man get back in. I called the guard, and he told me the van had sighed out after doing a plumbing job."

  "How did you know it was the same van?"

  "It had a dent just behind the rear wheel by the taillight housing, and the same streak of blue paint was visible on both vans."

  Bennett thanked him and continued on to his townhouse. He wondered if the man had been mistaken about the van. Perhaps it was a coincidence. Work vans tend to get battered, yet Whitmore was positive it was the same van. Bennett knew that something was wrong. In his line of work, there was no such thing as a coincidence. What was also bothering him was the fact that David had missed their appointment, and repeated calls and e-mail messages went unanswered. He finally called the LA police, left his name and number, and said he was concerned. A short while later, his Captain called and asked Bennett about his relationship with the officer. After giving the man a brief summary, the Captain informed him that David had been involved in a shootout the previous night and was in the hospital in critical condition.

  Dismissing the van, his thoughts soon returned to Miss Hottie and her offer. As he approached his door, he noticed that his neighbor’s party was breaking up, and his neighbor was walking some of his quests out to their cars. Bennett looked up and saw his wife still with a few friends on their balcony. He greeted his neighbor, who also asked him in for a nightcap, and he turned him down with the same dialog that he gave Mr. Whitmore. Walking to his front door, he turned his cell phone back on and checked his call log. He had several missed calls, three voice messages, and a half dozen text messages. With too much on his mind, He checked the text messages first and listened to the voice messages. He decided to return the calls and text messages in the morning. Nothing appeared to be urgent, and the calls originated at 3:00 AM on the East Coast. Besides, he had too much on his mind to talk rationally with anyone. He was smitten.

  Bennett fumbled with his keys for a moment before he found the correct one. He inserted the key into the lock and opened the door. He set his keys and cell phone down on the entry hall table, entered his five-digit code that deactivated the security system, and then made his way up the stairs to his bedroom after resetting the alarm. Normally, the lateness of the evening and the wine would have let him slip into bed and be sound asleep in seconds, although that wasn’t going to happen tonight. He couldn’t get Miss Hottie off of his mind. Bennett hadn’t been with a woman in years, not that he didn’t have many opportunities. He just liked living alone without complications, but tonight, being with this woman changed him in a way he didn’t think possible. When she pressed her body next to him, a surge of pleasure shot through him. Her soft touch on his chest and face was so amazingly pleasant. Her lips were so soft and sweet that he thought he was in a surreal dream that he never wanted to wake from. Bennett had been married and divorced twice, yet no woman had ever made him feel this way. He felt alive and totally intoxicated by her. She was like a drug, and he craved more.

  An hour later, he was still lying in bed, thinking when he heard something downstairs. It was the front door opening. It had a distinctive creek in just one spot. Then he heard it again. Someone must have closed it after they entered. He looked at the bedroom clock. It was 12:55. The intruder had only sixty seconds to deactivate the alarm. Bennett wasn’t going to wait for it to go off. His hand slowly reached for the phone on the nightstand, and he plucked it out of its cradle. He sat up and punched in 911. Nothing, the landline was dead, and his cell phone was downstairs on the entrance table. The sixty seconds passed without setting the alarm off, and Bennett knew he was in trouble. He was fully awake now and quietly slipped out of his queen-sized bed. He slowly opened his nightstand drawer and pulled out his 9mm Sig Sauer P226. He set it on the nightstand, then quickly made his bedding and extra pillows appear like a lump sleeping under the covers. He stopped and listened for a moment. He could make out faint footfalls coming up the stairs. From the sound of it, there were two men, although he couldn’t be sure. They would be at his door very quickly. Bennett quietly tiptoed to his walk-in closet a dozen feet away, partially closed the door behind him, and waited.

  Bennett had no delusions that these intruders were merely burglars. He knew these men were professionals. Over the years, he had made a lot of enemies, both foreign and domestic, and many of them would like to see him dead and rotting in hell. Yet something told him that it had something to do with the LA cop that he was supposed to meet the following day. He was well aware that the chamber of his Sig was empty, but he didn’t dare pull back the slide and chamber a round just yet. Even the slightest noise might give him away. The closet was pitch-black, and he could make out the bed from the ambient light coming in through the single window. Most of the effects of the wine were gone now, although he still wasn’t as sharp as he would have liked. His heart was racing. He tried to slow his heart rate, control his breathing, and focus on the task at hand. It had been years since he had seen combat, and the rust and wine crept into his subconscious. He could see the slight outer edge of a light now, probably a small penlight at the end of one of their weapons. The bedroom door was open, and the first man moved into the room like a ghost. Moments later, he was followed by a second man. They were dressed in black from head to toe, and he could tell they were probably wearing vests. Then, the first man slowly raised his silenced H&K MP5. A millisecond later, the bed covering erupted as if it were alive as it was stitched with dozens of 9mm slugs from the automatic weapon.

  Bennett jacked a round into the chamber of his Sig when the man fired but didn't return fire. He waited. He could see the bedding shudder under the barrage of bullets shredding the material and leaving the air filled with the smell of cordite and puffs of bedding floating in the air.

  When it was over, one of the men said, "That was bloody brilliant," as he moved to the edge of the bed. When the man got next to his bed, Bennett got a good look at his outline silhouetted against the window, and he lined up the gun sights on the man’s head.