Previously published April 14, 2024
I’m trying not to let life get in the way, but it happens. Fortunately, I still have updates.
First, I entered the NYCMidnight Short Story contest earlier this year and made it to the second round!
For the first round, I had a week to write a story no more than 2500 words in the Spy genre, with a Pawnbroker character, and undeveloped film as the object. I enjoyed the challenge of writing something outside of my comfort zone with a deadline. It’s not all magic and horror over here. The second round has a time limit of three days with an all new prompt. Wish me luck!
“Bouts in Beijing,” the story that got me to Round 2, is below.
Second, I’ll be at the Gaithersburg Book Festival on May 18, 2024 from 10 am to 6pm at Bohrer Park selling copies of Imani’s Heart: Book One in the Tiwa Series.
More information is here: https://www.gaithersburgbookfestival.org. I’ll continue to post updates. Come by if you can!
Bouts in Beijing
“Nicholas? Nicholas, are you okay?” The woman’s British accent ushered me back to reality. I sat up in my chair and tried to take in the scene. A restaurant.
“Hollis, are you okay?” a masculine voice rang out in my ear. I recognized his voice. The Pawnbroker. Okay, I was on a mission.
The woman’s long black hair swung across her shoulder as she reached across the restaurant table and grabbed my hand. She was Chinese. Beijing. I was in Beijing.
“You just blanked out, bǎobèi.” She walked from around the table and scooted her chair next to me. The sound caught the attention of the other patrons. A fancy restaurant. They eyed us with condescension before returning to their conversations and meals. I was dressed in a nice gray suit, a white shirt, and no tie. She was in a short, black, cocktail dress. Those legs. She smelled like money. Who was she again?
“Tell her you’re okay, Hollis. We have to keep going.” P.B. said in my ear. My memory was on the fringe of returning. If she got too close, she might see the earpiece.
“I’m okay, darlin’. Just, the last thing you said. I was thinking about that.” I squeezed her hand for reassurance and turned away from her to take a bite of my food. Tofu. Yuck. The lady relaxed but watched me just a bit more. “Tell me again, darlin’. I was lost in thought,” I said with all my southern charm.
She folded her napkin on her lap and smiled. “I was saying Mu Jin Zheng owned this restaurant. You’ve heard of him?”
“Oh, Mu Jin Zheng. No. Haven’t heard of him. I thought you said someone else.”
Of course I knew Mu Jin Zheng. About a year ago I found myself diving out of his penthouse, climbing down the building- floor by floor- to escape the thirty-two days of torture he’d put me through. He was partly responsible for my seizure disorder. Fucker.
“Who is he?” I asked, struggling with another bite of golden fried tofu.
“Only one of the richest men in Beijing. Word around the Coalition is that he’s into drug trafficking. They think he’s running it through his restaurants. Internationally.”
“You don’t work cases. How do you know him?”
“Good,” the Pawnbroker said, “Stay focused. Try to get her to talk about the film.” His relief was loud in my earpiece. Before my month-long meeting with Mu Jin Zheng, I would have been annoyed at his interruptions. Now, the blackouts caused by my seizures were increasing and P.B.’s voice was better than God. I needed him more than ever.
She laughed and retrieved her food from across the table. “I only know of him. I don’t get involved in the details at work. It would be beneath my family. I’ve seen him at some parties, though. Oh!” She squealed, clapping her hands in delight. “Say, you’ll come with me tomorrow night. There’s a party at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel. I can introduce you to some people. Zheng is usually at these things. Maybe we’ll run into him. You really must see him. He looks like a criminal. Keeps this long goatee that he twirls with his long fingernails. It’s cartoonish if you ask me.” She giggled again.
I suppressed a shudder that tried to escape. That damn goatee. Those fucking fingernails. Zheng was mine.
“Bingo,” the Pawnbroker cheered, interrupting my painful memories. “We’re in.”
“Yes,” I replied. I stopped her from taking a bite, pulled her face towards mine, and planted a kiss on her lips. “I mean, of course, darlin’. I’ll be there.”
∞∞
“Tell me what you’ve got.” I cleaned my H&K VP9 in the basement level of the Shop. The Pawnbroker’s bald head was illuminated by the laptop he had his face glued to. The lines on his face had grown and I hoped he’d be able to leave the Agency once I did. He deserved it.
“I’ve gotten into Zheng’s assistants’ calendars and email. It appears that he’ll be in attendance tonight.”
“What about the film? Anything on that?”
“If he had it developed, it’d be hard for me to know, but-”
“He wouldn’t have developed it. If he does, he’ll be at more risk. From the Agency and anybody else who knows what’s on it. Too many opportunities for copies to be made. That’s why he got me when he did. I don’t know how, but he knew I didn’t have a chance to process it and he couldn’t risk me getting it done.”
The Pawnbroker frowned and took a sip of his lemon water, looking away from me. Always the health nut. He closed the laptop and pushed a button on the underside of his desk. The wall behind him lowered, revealing his supply of weapons and gadgets. “Speaking of last time-”
“I’m fine, P.B.” I clicked the ammunition back into the gun.
“You were out for only a few moments last night, but it was noticeable. Your seizures-”
“Are getting worse. I know. That’s why I have to get the film back so I can retire. This’ll be my last mission.”
“They could put another agent on this. You don’t have to do it. I think you’re taking it personally.”
Of course I was taking it personal. Thirty-two days of fingernail pulling, electro-shock, darkness, and painful interrogation about who I worked for and what I was doing with the film. I had to kill my way out of there and drop several stories from the building through the awning of the first floor. I limped my way back to the Shop before I lapsed into a coma for weeks. The Pawnbroker made the call to the Agency to save my life. Otherwise, they would have let me die for my failure. He understood how important it was for me to get the film back.
“I’m not taking it personally,” I lied. “It’s only business. The Agency knows this is my last job.” I left out that they didn’t know about my newly diagnosed epilepsy. I walked over to the wall and picked up a regular looking ballpoint pen off the shelf of gadgets. “What’s this do?”
Blackness swirled around me before I had a chance to hear his answer.
“Hollis. Hollis, are you back?” I woke up in P.B.’s lap on the floor.
Shit. Another seizure. I scooted out of P.B.’s arms. “What happened?” A headache grew in the back of my head.
P.B. pushed me away and stood up. He walked to his desk and picked up the pen I’d grabbed. “I was just explaining that this would help you with your seizures temporarily. Then you had a seizure. Seems like stress may trigger them.”
“How long was I out?” I stood up. Seizures didn’t really impact me except for the temporary loss of awareness and memory. I found it was harder on those around me. P.B. described it as me staring into space, sometimes gulping air. Once, I fell on the floor. I guess twice now. Falling definitely wasn’t good.
“Here.” P.B. stabbed the pen into my arm. Electricity surged through every vein in my body. I felt like a new man.
“A little warning, next time.” I rubbed my arm where he punctured it.
“That didn’t hurt.” P.B. shook his head and slid a chair over to me. “Hollis. Are you sure about this mission? This new medication will last only about an hour. It’s a temporary fix. I have one more pen prepared. Are you absolutely sure you want to go through with this?”
I avoided the chair and went back to the wall. “It has to happen tonight. We know Zheng will be there. Tell me your best guess about the location of the film. I either pick it up while he’s gone or make him take me to it.” I grabbed the other pen from the shelf and put it in my jacket pocket. I met P.B. ‘s very worried eye contact.
“Maybe practice some deep breathing or something before you use the pen. It’ll only last so long.” He practiced a deep breath using his hands to indicate his inhale and exhale.
I watched, motionless.
“One of his guards may have the film with them,” he relented.
∞∞
I took Hai’s arm after she exited the limo. “Xiǎojiě Yi.” I couldn’t believe I ever forgot her name. Hai Yi. She was a member of the British Chinese UN Coalition. A glorified secretary, really. She had no idea I was Hollis Twist, a spy for the Dixon Tech Agency. Otherwise, she’d have to turn me in. The Agency was a Texas-based corporation responsible for the indiscriminate blackmail of multiple worldwide leaders. That was their business model to ensure their own global domination.
“You look good, darlin’.”
Hai wore a floor length emerald gown encrusted with diamond sequins and an emerald stole to match. Her long hair was swept to one side held by a diamond covered barrette. Her coral lipstick drew me to her lips. She was extremely stunning, but I made it a habit to never pander to my paramours. Less meant more agreeability to give me the information I needed.
“Well thank you, Nicholas,” she replied, tugging on my matching green bow tie. I ignored all the stares we were met with as we entered the hotel ballroom. It was a spy’s job to blend in, but it was impossible with her on my arm. We immediately got the attention of Zheng, who nodded to me as we walked around the party. I followed Hai’s lead in mingling for a stretch while keeping an eye on him.
“Excuse me, lovely. There’s someone I need to speak to.” I kissed Hai on her cheek and left her with the owners of a global textile conglomerate. She’d be fine for the meantime.
Zheng immediately began walking away from me as I headed in his direction. His security kept several paces from him but P.B. and I had already done a head count when we put eyes on him. All of them dressed in formal attire, three mingled among the party keeping him in their view. Two were right at his side. And there was one who watched him from the overlook. He was a big one. About 6’5”, 300 pounds from my perspective down below.
“The film is most likely in Guard #6’s left ticket pocket. Right over his heart.” P.B. stated in my ear from the safety of a hotel room upstairs. “There’s a room where my sensors can’t read off the hallway to the ballroom. That may be where Zheng is headed.”
“On it.” From my periphery, Guards #1, 2, and 3 stopped their mingling and headed towards me. I took a deep breath.
“On your left.” advised P.B.
“Joe! Is that you?” I grabbed Guard #1 around his neck like an old friend and discreetly injected him with the syringe needle in my watch. A tranquilizer that would render him useless in just a few moments. He’d live but be out for hours. I had seven more shots left. He stumbled away from me. “Careful there, Joe,” I teased, “This is a formal event. You shouldn’t get drunk.” I kept moving.
Guards #2 and #3 tried to block me in and guide me away from Zheng. I crossed my watch arm over to the one on my right and hit him with the needle on his side. Guard #3 openly tried to punch me in the gut. I turned away as Guard #2 tried to get his footing. The two fell into each other and I gave #3 a dose in his arm as he tumbled to the ground. Other party goers gasped and shrieked about what appeared to be two drunk party guests falling on top of each other. A good distraction for security.
“The others are moving away from Zheng.” P.B. said. I took another deep breath and a bottle of champagne from the attendant on my way out of the ballroom. I continued into the hallway.
“I see them. They’re headed my way.” I said, making sure I could also see Zheng. He looked back in my direction and swiped his goatee with his ungodly yellowed fingernails. He sneered. Rage swelled within me. “I don’t have time for this,” I whispered.
It took me less than thirty seconds to smash Guard #4 in the head with the bottle and use the remaining shard to stab #5 in the neck. I left them dead and knocked out in the hallway. That saved me some injections if I needed them for Guard #6. A man his size might need more than one.
“Something in the hallway is blocking me from getting a good reading. I’m gonna have to come down.”
“Don’t you dare, P.B,” I commanded. “Stay where you are. I’ve got this.”
Zheng headed into the room off the hallway. I was still too far behind him. With the other guards gone, #6 would be here any moment. I shot the pen in my arm and let the electric surge mingle with my anger.
“Going somewhere?” Guard #6 appeared out of nowhere. I smiled. Up close, I remembered him as my main torturer. The one who smashed my head against concrete I don’t know how many times. The one truly responsible for my current condition. “You.” I ran at him with all my force. He punched me in the head. I swung up and managed to inject him in the cheek with my watch. He pushed me away, rubbing his face. I got my bearings and hit him with a combo to the gut, landing an injection. He wobbled a bit. I used the opportunity to inject him with foufour more shots to his neck. He fell with a thud. Definitely dead.
I searched his pockets for the tin with the film and came up empty. “Our deal!” a voice screamed from the room down the hallway. Thumps followed. I ran in and found P.B. lying face up on top of Zheng’s dead body.
“Here,” he wheezed, holding his hand in the air. In it was the tin with the film. “Zheng had it,” he whispered. He closed his eyes as he took a deep breath.
“You lied. You should have told me.” I put the tin in my tux pocket and pulled him off my enemy. Blood trickled out of P.B.’s mouth. He’d been shot.
“Your seizures, the torture…it was all my fault. I…I gave you u-… bad intel. I had to make up for it.”
Did he…?
“You already saved my life, Pawnbroker. You didn’t have to do this.”
His hand went limp in mine. “Go. Enjoy life. The Shop has what you need.”
P.B. took his final breath. I left him before the authorities came.