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Ho slept poorly. He was tied hand and feet to an exercise machine, the kind that has a bench chair with overhead arms. He could work on his lats, triceps and biceps if he chose but keeping a toned body was not a priority here. He was being held in Yuto’s gym, benignly. He guessed Yuto had a point—this was preferable to being dropped from the penthouse suite but being the bait in the so-called merger with Bitek was galling. Ho did not have the personality to just wait it out; he was sure Luke and Makaewalani were trying to get the papers transferred as quickly as possible. The waiting was as much torture as if he were physically tortured.
A few of the corporate brass had entered the gym and watched him intently the night before. He knew something was in the air, maybe Lonnie was here already but that was too good to be true. In walked Yuto and Alkichi Odd Job. The dark expressions on their faces told Ho things were not going well. Ho was sure it was three or four in the morning another clue that something was not quite right—billionaires only rose that early if they were up to something, Ho reckoned.
“Glad to see you gentlemen, this must be my ‘get out of jail’ day,” Ho blurted out good-naturedly. The expressions darkened. “No? What could possibly have gone wrong with such a well thought out business negotiation?”
Yuto stared at him for what seemed eternity. “Your woman will be at the bank at eight this morning; there are, however, a few things we need to do first.”
“Is something wrong with the papers?” Ho knew the CEO was stalling, that he refused to meet her meant something had changed.
“I want to know how you started the Mariachi power pyramid at the Thom Temple. Alkichi used my agitator equipment and shut it down two weeks ago, it is now operating as usual. I view this as a breach of contract. The Golden Circle power was to remain off. Promises were made to the Commission. You knew the ‘brown-out’ must be permanent and yet you had your people re-energize the area. I will not be releasing you today.” Yuto motioned to Odd Job to untie Ho. As he was freeing the shackles around the gymnasium equipment, Odd Job grinned at him.
“You think you so smart, you think the girl, Annie, is so smart. We will go there now and show you how we can overcome your generating capabilities. Your girlfriend will have to wait. Maybe long time,” talking in a peasant sing song, Odd Job was trying to piss him off. It was working.
“Wait, my ass,” Ho was irritated. “I am sure my company board followed your demands to the letter. I know Hack, Lucas Jensen. This is a double-cross, shoulda seen it coming.”
Ho was roughly pulled away from the exercise bench and propelled toward the elevator. It went up two floors and opened onto a roof helipad. Ho was starting to worry maybe Yuto’s benign side was only an act, maybe Odd Job is going to drop me from the roof. He was relieved to see a helicopter with its blades whipping at idle. They really were going to take a trip. In an hour, they were circling above a reservoir and an old partially fallen down temple. Ho assumed the area was Ta Muen Thom; he recognized a few of the landmarks from when he had hovered above the area with his Black Mariachi necklace. It seemed like a long time ago but was only three months before. Ho could see evidence the electric pulse was working. Lights dotted the landscape and the edges of the river. Moose really had made the generator start up a second time. The pilot landed next to the ancient UNESCO relic of a temple, with its adjacent visitor center and helped Odd Job and another white frock coated technician set up a radar looking gun on a tripod. It looked like some futuristic death ray gun out of a Bond movie. Great, thought Ho, here’s a crazy world changer and Odd Job, with a prototype gun; but I’m not an M16 agent—there are no sexy women around.
The tech guy aimed his pulse gun at the center of the old temple. He then did some calculations on a laptop and sent the pilot with another unit to a spot he chose to triangulate the pulses. Ho knew this system was used by assassination teams with EMP weapons, and even by doctors to pulverize kidney stones, they had done it to his step dad. Mariachi power was a subtle EMP. Ho assumed the pulsing wave bursts would break the Mariachi’s harmonious wave patterns back into a random set of wave sounds, kinda like the disruption of an orchestra by a swat team rushing across the stage, he mused.
The electrical bonding of magnetic forces would be subjected to agitation and the wave patterns would settle into individual entropy, resulting in no power in the upper Mekong. That would allow the hydro system of the Xayanburi Dam to be constructed near here, if no one stopped them. Now he knew the plan, though, and the players, and Lonnie knew; would the greed of these investors end in silencing them? Ho couldn’t settle the jangle of his nerves or the panic about Makaewalani.
It only took about thirty seconds and the early dawn lost the twinkle of lights at the small village and in the visitor center. He looked down the broad sweep of the lazy Mekong and saw lights all down the shore line on both sides flick off. It was light enough in the murky mist of morning to know that all power generation from the UNESCO World Heritage site was gone, as well as the hundreds of square miles surrounding it.
Yuto grinned at Ho, his wispy little beard dancing in the morning breeze. The grin looked like a leer, or at least, the triumphant gloat of a prehistoric creature about to eat its prey. The new Pacific Godzilla had things under control and was relishing it.
The quiet of the morning was disturbed by the roar of a couple small motors. Four bouncing flashing lights were approaching them. They turned into two new four-wheel Razor ATV’s, driven swiftly by a pair of black dressed ninja style young men. These had to be some of the black clads he had been warned about by Luke. One of them climbed out of his machine, and chuckling, sauntered over to Yuto. To Ho’s surprise, he gave him an exuberant hug. Yuto whispered something to him and pointed to Ho.
With no comments or goodbyes or explanation, Yuto turned and entered the large helicopter. The other black clad helped the tech guy dismantle the guns and stow them aboard. He then helped Odd Job roughly deposit Ho into one of the ATV’s with him. Odd Job waved, gave the pilot the spin/take-off signal and then joined the first young man in his Razor. They roared off into the jungle on a trail that looked like only goats could navigate it. Ho’s mind was spinning—he was not going to be traded for MJD; the company had just been stolen and he was going to be imprisoned in the jungle or worse.
The President of the prestigious bank was apologetic. He assured Makaewalani Mr. Tanaka was always punctual, something beyond his control must have arisen. He took her to a conference room and had the bank staff fetch her coffee and pastries. While she waited, she tried to hone in the situation. What was Ho doing this minute? Was the delay in meeting with the CEO of Tanaka Resources connected to his absence? She had fully expected him to be at the bank, waiting for a transfer, her man for a stack of papers and a generic black rock.
It seemed simple enough but her hair at the nape of her neck was on edge. She sensed that things were not right—that Ho was angry and scared. She knew something had happened. It was the intuition that she had always had. She put on the calm exterior of a professional business woman, but inside her guts there was turmoil, and in her mind a plan was forming. These thieves had better not try to double cross her, it would be a huge mistake—huge.
An assistant came into the large conference room and informed her Mr. Tanaka’s helicopter had just landed on the roof. He would be joining her presently.
“Thank you for being so thoughtful and for the refreshments,” smiled Makaewalani. Inside her professional demeanor a storm was brewing, the cage adrenaline was pumping. If that rich bastard is playing me, I might snap his scrawny neck, she was thinking.
A few moments later, the Banking Officials ushered Yuto into the room. She rose, bowed and extended her hand. Are you kidding me, this wispy little elf? she thought. Her smile lit up the room and captivated the old man. “So, pleased to meet you, sir. You are as gallant as your reputation.”
“This is truly a momentous meeting, the first of many. I trust you have brought the requested items to culminate our transactions.” Yuto bowed again. The bank officials stood looking more like body guards than observers and financiers. If they hadn’t been in the room, she probably would have slammed his head on the giant mahogany table.
“I have it all in this bag but I wish to see your half of the bargain. I fully expected him to accompany you here.” What she meant was you decrepit bag of manure, where is Ho? She smiled her dazzling smile again, watching him for any hint of betrayal.
“Of course, Ms. Osunolo, in due time. Because of the early hour, we were unable to bring him from his accommodations in time. I will have him delivered to you, shortly.”
You liar, screamed the voice in her head.
“He is always such an early riser. I find it odd an elderly gentleman, such as you, could make a 9 o’clock appointment but a young guy that can’t sleep long is still resting.” She gave a confrontational glare, the kind that had frozen the resolve of many UFC participants. It unsettled Yuto and he was used to high stakes stare downs.
“Might I remind you we are in my bank, in my town, dealing on my terms? I will bring him in when everything is consummated.” The intimidation would have worked on most young women in a foreign place and in similar hostile environments but Makaewalani was not most young women.
“Don’t play me, Tanaka. I am not in the mood for your deceptive games. Everything you needed for the takeover of MJD is in that attaché. It is signed, notarized, sealed, and delivered. This deal is consummated, except one glaring detail...Ho Tanner; or do you have a private meaning for the word consummated?” Makaewalani’s dark eyes were blazing, as she stood up. “Bring him in, or this meeting is over and I will view our papers and contracts in breach.”
“Calm down, dear,” answered Yuto, placating. “There is no reason for feminine drama.”
Yuto glanced around the room, a look Makaewalani interpreted as checking to see if the other three advisors, or executives or sycophants on the Tanaka payroll as enforcers were prepared to do their jobs—enforce.
“Mr. Tanaka, I won’t stand for any of your traditional Asian games. Deliver your half...now.”
“Will you please sit down?” Yuto asked but it sounded to her like a command, not a plea.
Makaewalani backed away from the table; she was right, the assistant bankers were not business men, they were security. There were three of them moving in toward her. Her sense of time, place, and opportunity was sharpened.
“Wrong answer, mister, this will be on my schedule; we have a plane to catch, for two.” Yuto blinked and inclined his head slightly, a gesture Makaewalani knew was, ‘do it now’. One of the observer bank guards reached out and took her arm to force her to sit. Bad plan.
No one in the conference room could have anticipated the petite girl was a cage champion. She was a blinding blur of lethal moves from Krav Maga, Tae Kwan Do, and Muay Thai boxing. She had perfected her own compilation of martial art, along with special Hawaii 5-0 force negotiation.
In less than five seconds everything changed. She stomped the guard’s arch, slammed him in the groin, and elbowed his throat, crushing his trachea. Spinning, with her behind on the table she caught the next man in the face with a stiletto heel in his eye, as he rushed her; and still sitting on the table, connected laterally with the other foot, he never saw it coming, one eye would never see anything coming again.
She quickly rolled and pivoting with one elbow on the conference table, she executed a horizontal fly kick at the third guard, knocking him against the wall. As he struggled to pick himself up, she leaped from the table top, kicking him unconscious. Blood spurted from his nose and mouth. Yuto was trying to stand up when she whirled and dove headfirst onto the conference table, sliding across the smooth mahogany on her stomach, with her back arched. Grabbing Yuto by the neck tie, she head-butted him—hard, breaking the old man’s nose and his glasses, as she yanked his skinny body toward her. Tightening the tie knot until he was gagging, she growled.
“Your appointments are canceled we are on my schedule, Jackass.”
Godzilla blinked. His tough guys were unconscious and bleeding. The dazzling smile he had basked in a moment before was now a primal snarl.
Sending Ho Tanner to the jungle camp had been a monumental mistake, was all the shaken billionaire could think.
“Where’s Ho?” the tiger lady hissed, tightening the knot of his tie. His scrawny Adam’s apple tried to bob, but he couldn’t even swallow. His world was spinning and reality started to slip into the edge of darkness.