Mrs. Bristow came from the kitchen, smiling.
“Cup of tea, everyone?” she asked, and without waiting, she disappeared again. Jason took in his surroundings. The room was small, with an electric fireplace. There was a large brown couch with two matching armchairs and a small black-and-white TV on mute. In the corner, there were a table and four chairs. A few pictures of Janice growing up were in frames hanging on the wall.
They all sat at the table and drank tea. Janice stared at Jason, who kept his head down and wished he were somewhere else.
• • •
The following morning, Jason waited patiently outside the bathroom. Janice had been in there for half an hour, and he desperately needed to go.
What takes a girl so long? he said to himself. He looked at himself in the full-length mirror that was fixed to a wall in the narrow hall. His blond bangs swept across his eyes, and his hair was a mess. His new pajamas were creased and unbuttoned. He looked quite small, standing almost cross-legged.
What is taking her so long? I’m gonna piss myself in a minute.
Finally, she came out. She paused and turned slightly red when she saw Jason in his pajamas.
His first day of school went well. He enjoyed going to a mixed school for a change.
“May I go out after dinner? I’ve done my homework.” Jason smiled. Mr. and Mrs. Bristow looked at each other.
“Where do you want to go? We’ll take you,” Mrs. Bristow suggested.
“Nowhere. Just fresh air and take a look around the area. I’ll be home before nine.”
“No, nine is too late, Jason,” Mr. Bristow replied. “We will m-m-m-m-make it eight, but stay close. Janice can show you around.”
Janice gave her father a filthy look. She had her own plans, and they did not include baby-sitting Jason.
Once outside the apartment, Janice spoke abruptly to Jason. “Look, you don’t want to hang with me and I don’t want to hang with you. Don’t get me wrong. I like you. You’re cute for a little brother, but I have my own friends. I’ll meet you downstairs at eight. Don’t you dare be late.”
Anchor Avenue was two miles away. It took Jason fifteen minutes to run there. He came to number 62, which was one of the largest homes on the street. The large, brick house had bay windows and a neatly manicured garden. A black Rolls-Royce was parked on the drive, and next to that was a black Land Rover.
Jason rang the doorbell and waited until an elderly Chinese man answered.
“Hello, I’m Jason. I’ve come to see Andrew.”
The man waved Jason into the hallway and closed the door. “Andrew, you have a visitor,” the old man shouted in Chinese.
“Who is it?” Andrew’s voice shouted back in Chinese from upstairs. The old man had gone into the kitchen and didn’t reply. Andrew, wearing just his white school shirt and underwear, appeared and looked down the stairs.
“Oh, it’s you, Jason. Well, you’d better come up.”
“You don’t seem too pleased to see me. Is everything all right?” Jason questioned as he ran up the stairs.
“Yeah,” Andrew assured him, performing a slow-motion high kick toward Jason.
“You did say I could come by and you would get me a job with your father when we got out.”
“Did he now?” Lin Cho said behind Jason. Jason was taken by surprise. He turned to see Cho right behind him, his arms folded. He was wearing a black suit and tie that looked too small for his slightly overweight figure.
“Andrew, where is your honor? You have a guest. Put some clothing on,” he ordered.
“It’s only Jason, Father. We shared a cell. He’s seen a lot more than this. He’s the boy I told you about. He could be of some use.”
“You’re a little on the small side, but Andrew speaks highly of you. A Western boy as a lookout could be useful.”
“What’s my size got to do with it? I can take anyone you or Andrew can,” Jason said firmly.
“Andrew is a black belt and a great fighter. I myself am a black belt second dan. I doubt that you could match us.”
Jason bit his lip. He had over six years of karate and judo training. At age five, he had competed against boys who were ten and older, and they all had been twice his weight and size. Now, he could fight an adult opponent as easily as anyone else.
How many more times have I got to prove myself?
Jason followed Andrew into his room. It had “welcome home” cards stuck on one wall and posters of Bruce Lee on the others, which was very similar to Jason’s own room back home.
“I want you to come with me Saturday, Jason. I have some unfinished business,” Andrew said, passing Jason a can of Coke.
“What sort of business?”
“There’s a small store just off the high street. The owner refused to pay me. He was the guy I was beating up when the police showed up. I’m positive he called them in advance. Father has not collected anything since. He’s left it for me to deal with.”
“So he owes your father quite a bit of back money?” Jason quizzed.
“No, it’s not money anymore. He has blown that chance. This is personal. If I am to be number two in my father’s organization, I will need to get respect. I have to make an example of him. We’re going to kill him,” he said coldly.
Jason took a long drink from his can, trying to think of something to say. He had to go along with it, but he could not be part of murder.
“I’ve got to go. These new foster parents gave me a curfew.”
“The Bristows. I’ll drive you,” Andrew said and jumped off the bed and pulled on his shoes.
“How did you know their name?” Jason gasped.
“Jason, my father is deputy mountain master of the Triads. Have you heard of the Wo Shing Wo? That’s our Triad name. He is one step away from Boudica. Boudica is dragon leader. We have to be careful who we allow in. We’ve checked you out. It’s just a precaution.”
“Did I pass the test when you checked me out?”
“You’re still breathing, aren’t you?”
Chapter 7
Jason had arranged to meet Scott the following night at the park. It was planned for every third day at the same time. After he found out that the Triads had checked him out, he was concerned for Scott’s safety. He was also concerned for the Bristows’ safety. It may have been smart to use a real foster family for cover, but now they were in danger. He got to the park early and watched the direction he knew Scott would be coming in.
Jason sat on a swing and glanced at his watch—ten past six. They had arranged to meet at six. He wondered if Scott was still coming. He finally showed up and joined Jason on the swings. To anyone watching, it was just two boys rocking on the swings and talking. You would never guess they were passing information about murder plots.
“Your grandparents are down from Scotland and have flipped out. They gave Mrs. Beeton a hard time and they came around to my house. Your gran is really upset. I had to call George Young or she was going to call the police.”
“Oh, no, what did he do?”
“He told them it was a matter for SYUI and British security and that if they tried to make a fuss, they could be putting you in danger. They’re staying at your house. Oh, and they called the admiralty and spoke to your father. As you can guess, he is pretty mad with George Young and you.”
“Jesus, what a mess. I will be in for it when this is over and he gets home. I feel sorry for Mrs. Beeton. Get a message to my grandparents. Tell them I’m fine and they are to apologize to Mrs. Beeton. She’s just the housekeeper. It’s not her fault, and let’s face it, she couldn’t have stopped me.”
Scott stopped his swing and stood and faced Jason, who had to drag his feet on the ground to stop before he knocked Scott over.
“You want me to go around to your house and f
ace your grandparents? They’ll skin me alive! Those Scottish people are weird.”
“Hey, my mum was Scottish. Take that back. Just tell Gran I sent my love and she’ll be cool.”
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean anything bad about your mum. Okay, I’ll go and see them, but if you don’t ever see me again, you’ll know they cut me up and stuck me in a haggis.”
Jason grinned at Scott. They started walking over to the jungle gym, which was shaped like an igloo with metal bars. Jason jumped up and lifted his legs. Once he was hanging upside down by his legs, he continued, “Now down to work. On Saturday, Andrew Cho and I are going to kill a guy—the same guy he was assaulting when he was arrested and caught by the police. He wants to send a message that he’s the big grown-up son of Lin Cho. How do I get out of it without breaking my cover? I can’t kill a guy or watch it happen.”
“Dunno. I’ll ask George Young and see what he says. What’s your new school like?” Scott panted as he climbed up. He wasn’t as brave as Jason and thought better of hanging upside down by just his legs.
“Easy, relaxed. They don’t have a ‘Taffy’ Griffiths. It’s a coed school, so it’s different having girls in the class. But no one is as pretty as Catherine. I wish I could call her.”
“As much as I like working at SYUI and being the messenger, I will be glad when this is over. A few guys at school have started pushing me around. You know, the usual stuff, calling me a nerd.”
“You are a nerd, Scott. That’s what I like about you.” Jason laughed.
Scott cursed at Jason and punched his leg, almost causing Jason to fall. “I can’t think why I like you. Probably because it makes me feel superior because of your lack of intelligence.”
“Probably.” Jason smiled. Scott looked back and smiled at his friend. They climbed off the frame and toward the grass when two smaller boys came to play on the bars.
“Well, actually, there is some news about school, but it’s not good. Colin Wilkes hanged himself two days ago.”
“What? No way! Why?” Jason was shocked by the news. They had not been close friends but had often run track together after school.
“Probably because he was a junky and got kicked out of Man U.”
“Wilky wasn’t a junky,” Jason said.
“Well, he failed the drug test and then he went into a deep depression. Sorry, mate, it’s true.”
• • •
The following morning, Janice was arguing with her mother. She was upset that there were not any Coco-Bites left. First she blamed Jason for eating them until her mother reminded her that she had eaten them herself after school. She left for school early without saying good-bye and slammed the front door behind her.
“Did I cause that?” Jason asked.
“No, dear, she is at that age when she knows best. For some reason, she can’t stop eating that cereal. I notice you don’t eat it,” Mrs. Bristow said, trying to straighten Jason’s school tie as he was putting his shoes on.
“I prefer just milk for breakfast. I like to run to school, and I can’t do that on a full stomach,” he said, picking up his schoolbag.
Jason started jogging to school along the road, and a man in running shorts came up alongside him.
“Hello, boyo. I’m with George Young. Take Wilkinson Avenue,” the man said with a broad Welsh accent. He then increased speed and ran on ahead.
As Jason turned into Wilkinson Avenue, he looked for George. The street was heavily lined with trees and full of parked cars. A black van drove alongside him. When Jason noticed it out of the corner of his eye, it slowed down to his speed.
It’s got to be SYUI.
Without even looking, he ran into the street and the side door opened. As it slowed, Jason jumped in and the door was closed behind him.
“Jason Steed, good morning, mate. How are ya? Your bleeding grandmother got in a right state over you, she did. She was gonna go and call the ‘Old Bill,’” George said happily. Jason smiled at George and shook his hand. George was overweight and always smelled of body odor and cigarettes.
“I take it you got my message about Saturday,” Jason panted.
“Yeah, a bit of a problem…that. Do you know what they’re raising the money for yet?”
“No, but what do I do about Saturday?”
“You’ve gotta do it. I know you can kill with your bare hands. You proved yourself in Jakarta. How many did you kill then? Five or six? Although you shot some, so that don’t count.”
Jason cursed under his breath. “You are joking? I can’t kill some shopkeeper!”
“I don’t want you to kill him—just make it look like it. Kick him around a bit. Behind the counter will be a ‘prop knife.’ Stab him with it.” The van came to a stop.
“What’s a prop knife?” Jason asked, concerned.
“It’s what the actors use on films. It’s telescopic, so it won’t stab him. It will fold up, and a small capsule of animal blood will burst open. Makes a right bloody mess but looks like the real McCoy. Actors normally get a chance to practice. You don’t. You got one shot. The shopkeeper is counting on you with his life. Although to be honest, he doesn’t know about it.”
“What if it doesn’t work and Andrew wants to kill him?”
“You’d better get out, Jason, or you’ll be late for school.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“There you go now. Remember, it will be behind the counter,” George said, opening the door, putting his hand on Jason’s shoulder, and nudging him out. Jason pulled his arm away. “Come on. You’ll be late for school.”
“I’m not getting out until you answer my question. What do I do? Andrew may even have a gun. Do I stop Andrew or let him murder someone?”
Again, George tried to push Jason out the van. This time, Jason caught George’s hand and bent his fingers back hard. George slipped off his seat in pain and tried to free his fingers.
“Tell me what to do.”
“Okay, let me bloody fingers go,” George shouted. “Everyone, out. I need to talk to Jason.” The driver and man next to him in the front seat climbed out and shut the doors. George sat back and clenched his fingers. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it.
“Jason, I’m really sorry to put you in a spot like this, mate. At your age, you should be in school, thinking about girls and football. But we believe the Triads are up to something very big—so big it will go down in history. I can’t answer your question. We have to have a lead. I am depending on you to get it for us. If someone gets hurt or killed, well, there are bigger things at stake. I’ve got your back.” George took out a tissue and wiped his forehead. Jason noticed how worried he looked. He had lost his cocky smile and arrogance. He was a man who looked terrified of the consequences.
• • •
Early Saturday morning, Andrew stood outside the Bristows’, dressed in black. He had a pair of black leather gloves, and his jet-black hair shone in the morning sunlight.
“You look like Bruce Lee in Enter the Dragon,” Jason joked when he approached. Andrew said nothing as he walked past Jason. He knew his father would be watching today’s events, and he was certain that Boudica would also hear about it. Today was business. He had to act responsibly and take care of his reputation. Jason followed close to his side.
After a short bus ride, Jason followed Andrew off the bus and down a small street. It was a poor neighborhood. Many of the homes were in need of repair. Old cars that had clearly seen better days were parked alongside the pavement. Andrew stopped and bent down. He was pretending to tie his shoelaces.
“That’s it—there,” Andrew said, nodding toward the corner store. An elderly lady was coming out. She had a wicker basket on wheels, and they watched as she wrapped a scarf around her neck and slowly walked away. Andrew marched on toward the store.
/> As they entered, a bell rang. It was a small shop that sold prepackaged food, milk, tobacco products, and newspapers. Jason took in his surroundings: A counter was at the far end, with a cash register to the right. On the back wall, large jars of various colored candy and toffee filled a shelf. There was a small door opening behind the counter, and music was playing.
An old bald man came from behind the counter and smiled at Jason. He was stooped over and wore wire-framed glasses.
“Good morning, young man. How can I help you?” he asked.
It’s now or never. Sorry, but this will save your life.
Jason spun on one leg. His foot shot out in a perfectly timed full roundhouse kick that slammed into the soft flesh of the man’s stomach. Jason changed feet and carried out a second attack, kicking him twice in the chest and pushing him back behind the counter. With all the wind knocked out of him, the shopkeeper collapsed behind the counter and gasped for air. Jason scanned frantically behind the counter, searching for the knife.
Where is it?
As the shopkeeper tried to get to his feet again, Jason kicked him. He lunged forward and thrust his knee onto the old man’s chest, pinning his victim down. He saw the knife out of the corner of his eye and scooped it up. It was cold and heavy to the touch. Jason’s fingers wrapped around the handle and brought the knife down hard onto the man’s chest. The man cried out in pain, and blood spat back into Jason face. His hand was covered with blood as he climbed off his prey. Andrew looked over the counter. Jason bent down to feel a pulse on the man’s neck. Nothing.
“I can’t feel a pulse,” Jason announced in shock.
“Come on. We’d better go,” Andrew ordered.
“I can’t feel a pulse,” Jason said again, panic now setting in.
“That’s the whole idea, Jase. Good work. Now come on. Let’s go.”
Jason followed Andrew out of the store. He was dazed, panting and sweating. Jason had killed before—an enemy on Jakarta—but that has been a war zone. This was an English civilian—just an old man like his grandfather. Andrew stopped and took off his jacket. He wiped Jason’s face with his hand and placed his jacket around Jason. He could see Jason was in shock. This was one time Jason didn’t need to act.