Bovian Image - 17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Ahmon woke up to chaos at the Hitoiro club. Security had found an unconscious man in the dumpster. Scratching his unshaven jaw, he walked into the security room in a bad mood having not had any coffee.

“What do we have on the security footage that you need to wake me? It better be good, this is six o’clock in the morning people.”

Ahmon frowned when the screen filled with Liang hitting an unknown man on the head with a metal rod and then dragging the man to the dumpster behind the club. Liang carried a black duffel bag, and he kept looking around as though he were expecting an attack.

Ahmon sighed. This wasn’t what he’d been hoping to see this morning.

“Get me the cameras covering the Bovian Image building.”

Ahmon got his cell phone and called the Ashika Consortium house.

“I need a team down here right now and alert the inspectors in-charge of SarEr’s disappearance. We have a problem.”

“Here he is again,” his technician pointed out Liang walking stealthily across the road. Liang used the side entrance which wasn’t unusual, but he looked too cautious. “This was around four-thirty this morning.”

“Any sign of Savan’s motorcycle?”

Ahmon had no idea why Liang was attacking people on the street but things couldn’t be right.

“No sign of the motorcycle.”

“We’re going across the street, and get Han in a car.”

***

Liang couldn’t control his rage, it coursed through him like a volcano. Fists clenched tight, he kept pounding into the face of his would-be assassin. He’d tied the man to a chair in their living room. Yelling out harshly at the reality of the situation, Liang backed away with a kick on the man’s right leg.

He’d lost control twice in his life. First time was the day he found Mei bleeding to death on the salon floor in Hong Kong. The second time was three years ago when Jiro’s men had shot at him and instead gotten SarEr. Two bullets in SarEr’s thigh, the punk had been ready to give up his own life for Liang’s yet again.

The memory of SarEr bleeding to death on the ship floor as they made their escape from Jiro’s bastards still stung. It had taken the ship surgeon and the captain to calm him down.

He wondered who was going to do it this time. Nothing was making sense. Why would Jiro take SarEr and leave him behind? Didn’t that make the past five years pointless? Shaking his head, he dug fingers into his hair and kicked the closest stool.

Control, he had to find it now if he was going to get any answers.

Liang closed his eyes and took in a deep breath fiercely forcing his rage back. The man in the chair spat out blood. Liang grabbed the black fabric of the bastard’s camouflage clothes and shook him savagely. He looked into eyes full of hatred and smiled cruelly.

“Who sent you to kill me? Why did your people take SarEr and leave me?”

He tried to be nice, using a calm voice, no anger, just fierce intention to commit murder.

“You had better start talking or I’m going to make you talk and you won’t like my methods.”

“You’re wasting your time. Mr. Nang will send others to kill you.”

“I’m not asking about me.”

Liang reached over to the coffee table and the gun he’d laid out there.

His patience was running thin. He made sure the bastard got a good look at the gun before he pressed the barrel into the man’s crotch.

“Are you married? You seem like the type. Pretty wife, a couple of kids, all happy and shit. I wonder what she’ll do when I blow this off.”

He got a face full of spit mixed with blood and he cursed under his breath.

“Don’t fuck with me, answer my questions and you might be lucky getting off with being a eunuch, you bastard. What do they want with SarEr?”

When the man didn’t talk, Liang stepped back and cocked the gun. He aimed.

“Last chance, otherwise, you’re never going to feel the touch of your woman. One,” he started counting.

“Two,” he took a step back widening his stance for the impact. “Three—”

“Wait! Wait! Mr. Nang’s boss has him. Our orders were to do the usual, scare you into running but today, Mr. Nang called us and told us to hurry. When we got there, SarEr was gone, and you had disappeared.”

“You’re lying to me.” Liang shook his head. Jiro Nang was behind SarEr’s disappearance, he could feel it in his bones. “Don’t lie to me. Get your story straight. Start from the beginning I need to know where SarEr is.”

“I’m not lying. I promise. I don’t know where SarEr is. Mr. Nang is worried too, he sounded panicked when he found out we were late. Please, you have to believe me.”

“What are you trying to say here?” Liang pressed the gun deeper into the man’s crotch gaining a whimper. “That Jiro has been protecting SarEr? Do you want me to laugh?”

“He calls you extra baggage,” the answer came through gritted teeth. “You weren’t meant to be part of this, but SarEr wouldn’t listen.”

“You mean SarEr wouldn’t let Jiro kill me.”

“It was a mistake. You were meant to run away from Hong Kong and stay apart. Mr. Nang would have dealt with SarEr, but the three of you stayed together. It also didn’t help that you were a witness to some woman’s death—”

Liang backhanded the bastard with his free hand.

“Not some woman, my sister, Jiro killed my little sister! Start making sense very soon; otherwise, you’re of no use to me. What are you going on about Jiro sending you before some others? Who has SarEr?”

“Mr. Nang has been keeping SarEr away from his boss for the past five years. That is our job, to make sure that SarEr is out of the city before the big boss finds him. Something went wrong tonight, and they got there before us. We were late, so my orders changed. I was ordered to kill you and leave town.”

Liang walked behind the chair so that the man would not see him. Bracing a hand on the couch arm, he tried to curb the panic that had been simmering right behind the rage.

He’d woken up at three a.m. to a room full of blinding lights and a splitting headache, his senses dulled. Liang recognized the effects of a sedative. His bedroom door was wide open, and the lights in the corridor ablaze.

He’d jumped out of bed heart pounding when he couldn’t move fast enough. Rushing to the master bedroom, the sight of the double doors thrown open and lights flooding the room had propelled him into the bedroom to find a passed out Cole and no Savan.

A thorough search of the penthouse confirmed his fears, especially when he found Savan’s boots at the door. Whoever had taken Savan had carried him out. He’d been standing there trying to understand the situation when the lock clicked on the front door. It had taken some fast moves to hide. His hair was still dusty from his excursion up the living room ceiling.

That’s when Jiro’s goons showed up, panicking when they couldn’t find him or Savan. They’d made a call to their boss to receive their new orders. They were to watch Bovian Image until Liang showed up and make sure to kill him without raising suspicion.

Livid, Liang left Cole's penthouse as soon as he could. Leaving a note in the kitchen for Cole, lying to the poor man about an urgent business matter, he’d made sure Cole was comfortable, turned off all the lights and locked the door.

The problem now was where the hell was Savan?

“Can I get something to drink?” his prisoner asked.

“Hell no,” Liang said, pushing off the couch. “Who is Jiro’s boss?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is Jiro still working for Choi Yang Nan?”

“He’s got a big fancy title now, and works closely with Master Yang.”

“Of course he does,” Liang scoffed. “You’re going to tell me everything—”

The front door crashed open a result of pure brute force, and Liang trained his gun on the new intruders. Jiro certainly hadn’t wasted his time. Eyes trained on the men pouring in to the loft, he dropped down behind the couch, in case they opened fire.

“Liang,” Ahmon called out. “It’s me, I want to help.”

“Why are you breaking down my door, Ahmon? What do you want?”

“I just want to talk,” Ahmon said. “I don’t want to harm you. I want to know about the bleeding man in the chair.”

“Now’s not the time. I’m kind of busy.”

Liang slowly stood up to find Ahmon standing with his hands up by the entrance flanked by five of his security team. Behind them two men in trench coats looked suspiciously like policemen.

“That’s a lot of fire power. Are you planning a shootout?” Liang asked.

“Well, you’re the one attempting murder behind my club. I don’t appreciate waking up to bodies in my garbage. It’s bad for business.”

Liang shrugged, keeping his gun trained on Ahmon and his men. He sidestepped his prisoner, giving him a quick glance so that he could see if they knew each other. He liked Ahmon, but if even a hint of recognition was registered, he was going to have to shoot. He couldn’t take chances, not with SarEr missing. The longer he stayed here, the worse things would get.

“You look pissed, Liang.” Ahmon nodded to the man in the chair. “Did he refuse a hair cut? You didn’t have to rearrange his face for him.”

“I needed answers. Why are you here? This is not a very good time to be cryptic.”

“Where is Savan?” Ahmon demanded his gaze moving over the room with suspicion. “Is he hurt?”

Liang frowned.

“Why?”

“Answer my question, Liang.”

Ahmon dropped his hands and took a step forward. His guard dogs took it as a sign to continue their entrance. They rushed deeper into the loft, quickly moving into the corridor and toward the bedrooms. Liang kept his gun up on alert.

“I know who you are,” Ahmon said then. “I have two Inspectors with me who will take you into custody and question you, Liang. You have to give them answers. Don’t lie, don’t leave anything out.”

The two in trench coats separated from the rest of the guard and came up to where Liang stood, one held out a hand for his gun. The other pulled out cuffs.

“What’s going on?” Liang frowned.

Was Ahmon working for Jiro? Was he the one with Savan?

Connections to the police were not going to be easy to fight. His options were dwindling down to running and sorting out SarEr's disappearance later. But if he left, SarEr would be alone there would be no one to search. He sighed.

“You called the police, Ahmon. I didn’t kill that man in the back of your club. He’s alive.”

“Where is Savan?” Ahmon asked again. “I need to know.”

“He’s missing. This bastard is the only one who knows where he is, I’ve been trying to find out.”

“Give me your weapon,” the Inspector standing before him said. “Don’t make the situation any worse.”

“Do as he says, Liang.” Ahmon looked at him expectantly. “Please trust me. I only want to help you.”

“I don’t think this is a situation you can help.” Liang looked at the Inspector holding the cuffs and turned back to Ahmon. “The only way you can help me right now is to let me go. That man tied to the chair is the one you want. He knows where Savan is.”

Ahmon gestured for two of his men to untie the assassin.

“Cooperate with me, Liang. We need to get this sorted out, so let the Inspectors do their job. We’ll talk later.”

“Where are you taking me?”

Liang handed over his gun to the Inspector because he wasn't seeing another solution. He was clearly outnumbered here. The only solution left was escaping during transit or out of the police headquarters. He’d had worse. The moment his hands were empty, the Inspector pulled them behind his back and the cuffs tightened on his wrists.

“Where, Ahmon? How long is this going to take? I don’t have time. Savan needs me.”

“Please trust me,” Ahmon said quietly, as the two Inspectors dragged him out of the loft.

***

Ahmon waited for Han’s arrival, exploring the loft, looking for clues that might help him find Savan. It was well after seven o’clock in the morning, and his father was expecting a report in thirty minutes. Liang was in a holding cell at the police station. The Inspectors were investigating the man Liang had captured.

“Where is he?” Han asked rushing into the loft expectant. “Where is SarEr?”

“I’m sorry, we haven’t found him yet. Liang, or you should know him as Zun, is saying that he went missing this morning.”

“No.”

Han shook his head and looked around the living room.

“Who took him? Why did you call me here? We should be out there looking for him. Where is Zun? I’ll interrogate him.”

“Calm down. First, I need you to go through this loft. SarEr has been staying here for a while. Go through it carefully and find out what you can about them. I’m sure they haven’t been sitting around while being chased around. I need all the evidence I can get.”

“What about SarEr?”

“I’ll find him,” Ahmon promised.

Leaving Han at the loft, Ahmon headed straight for the Ashika Consortium building in Ginza. He found his father waiting for him along with three gentlemen who were on the Ashika board.

They all knew that Savan was SarEr Nan, Ahmon had told them the night he found out the truth. Which meant someone working in the Ashika Consortium was behind SarEr’s disappearance. Someone in their very tight circle of trust had betrayed Savan and that pissed the hell out of him.

***

“What do you mean they have Zun?” Jiro Nang roared into his phone. Gritting his teeth, he paced the length of his living room. “That’s not good news, where are they holding him?”

“Police station, we can’t get to him.”

“Find a way in, and take care of him, Zun talks and I’m going to lose everything. Everything! Do you understand!”

Ending the call, Jiro cursed under his breath and braced his arms against the terrace doors. Things were going to the crapper very fast and it was all Dao Ming’s fault. What was the bastard thinking acting so early? They weren’t ready for such a major move. He had Choi Yang Nan’s trust. This little trick was going to jeopardize everything he had now.

Straightening up, Jiro stared out the beach house he had acquired after five years of hard work along Choi Yang Nan. Acquiring the kind of trust Choi Yang had in him had meant giving up so much of himself, so much time. He shook his head in disappointment. His position as C.E.O of Nan Enterprises came with benefits he wasn’t ready to give up yet. Just a few more years and Choi Yang would have handed him everything.

His phone buzzed and he answered it abruptly.

“Why would you do this now?”

“You are getting comfortable,” the answer came. “Your little pet project with Nan’s son was already compromised. The Ashika Consortium knew where SarEr was, they’d have found you out anyway. I can’t guarantee your safety anymore.”

“I’m so close, how could—”

“This is not about you, and you seem to have forgotten that. This is about revenge, not what we can get from Choi Yang’s handouts. You should understand that already. I have the boy. You should leave now because things are going to get hairy for you if you remain by Choi Yang’s side. He won’t thank you for your role.”

“You should have warned me.” Jiro shook his head, his shoulders slumped at the idea of walking away from this privileged life.

“You didn’t bother to warn me when you went around saving SarEr from city to city. Don’t screw with me again, Jiro. I’m at the end of my patience. If you don’t want to burn down with your uncle, find a way out of Nan Enterprises and Hong Kong.”

His father ended the call as abruptly as he’d called.

Jiro grimaced as he realized how much hatred consumed his father. The bastard hadn’t stopped to think how this would affect his only son. Looking around the beach house he’d come to love, Jiro sighed in disappointment. It was time to save his own skin, the only upside to this was that SarEr was not going to get to see his father again.

The Nan Enterprises Prince was going to die alone, as he deserved.

***

“Miss, there is a man here who insists he must see Master Yang.”

“Kang, the Master is very busy right now. I don’t think we have time to indulge everyone who insists on seeing him today,” Sulan said as she busily rearranged files in her office. “Where is his secretary? You should have this man make an appointment with her.”

“Miss, this man says he’s from Tokyo.”

“Tokyo.” Sulan stopped what she was doing and straightened up with a thoughtful glance.

Han was in Tokyo.

“I will see him.”

The guard left and returned almost immediately with a Japanese man who carried a laptop bag. Closing the door behind the man, Sulan glanced at the bag the man carried so carefully.

“I would like to know why you insist on seeing Master Yang,” Sulan asked.

There was a brief moment of silence, she waited and when he didn’t speak, she frowned when the man held out a small red envelope.

Taking it, she read the contents quickly.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” the man answered.

“Come with me,” Sulan said, and led the way out of her office.

Choi Yang had moved his offices to the second floor of the house a few years back. Lately, he’d taken to working in his office here, refusing to go for meetings outside the estate. Gripping the little envelope, she hurried their guest up the stairs to the private office.

Knocking on the door, Sulan opened it and ushered the man behind her in.

“What is it, Sulan?” Choi Yang asked with an irritated tone.

“There is someone you should talk to.” Walking over to the large desk, she handed the envelope to him. “He’s from Tokyo.”

Reading the note, Choi Yang got to his feet and stared at their guest.

“‘A token from the head of the Sanori Clan that must be opened by Choi Yang,’ are you the man with this token?”

“Yes,” their guest bowed. “My name is Takada.”

“Where is the token?” Choi Yang demanded.

“I apologize, but I can only give it to you alone.” Takada bowed lower. “It must be alone, Sir.”

Sulan met Choi Yang’s gaze with a frown. She was particularly distrustful of people who insisted on being alone with her master.

“Leave us, Sulan,” Choi Yang ordered.

“But—

“Leave us.”

Sulan sighed.

She didn’t like this one bit. Ever since Master Nan had sent Han away in search of his lost child, he had been doing things she didn’t think were safe. He was getting more reckless. Holding his gaze, she made sure he knew she wasn’t happy about this before she let herself out of the room. She’d leave, but she wasn’t going far, she would wait right outside the door, just in case.

Left alone, Choi Yang dropped the red envelope with its note on his desk.

“She's not happy with me. She suspects you're going to kill me. Are you an assassin?”

“When the occasion calls for it,” Takada replied with a matter of fact tone.

Moving closer to the desk, Takada opened the bag he held and pulled out a laptop which he placed on the desk. Turning it on, he typed in a few keys and turned the screen to Choi Yang.

“But, I am here for something else.”

“What would that be?”

“The documents you’re about to see will explain it all. You’re the only one with the password.” Takada pushed the laptop closer to Choi yang. “For your eyes only, those were my orders.”

Frowning, Choi Yang glanced at the blinking cursor asking for a password. The rest of the screen was blank so he assumed this was an Ashika Consortium password. Sitting down, he typed in the necessary code, and blinked when the screen changed to reveal one folder on the screen. Clicking on it, he frowned at the series of pictures that appeared.

They were pictures of a young man seated on a barstool. His hair was blonde, choppy, wild, his clothes dark and very edgy, probably had a very bad attitude. Earrings on his ears, Choi Yang frowned, stumped as to why the picture should make sense to him.

He was about to look up in question when a tattoo on the young man’s hand caught his attention. The young man was holding up a glass, sipping his drink, his inner wrist turned toward the camera. The tattoo made him look closer.

“I was so angry when he got them,” Choi Yang whispered.

It was so easy to get excited, to allow his hope to grow, and how could he not. He’d searched hundreds of young men’s wrists, in hospitals, in prisons, once in a morgue, each time leaving with disappointment. Desperation had made him disappointed at leaving the morgue without finding his son. He couldn’t even describe that feeling.

Choi Yang scrolled through the rest of the pictures. Drinking in the pictures like water in the Tibetan dessert.

His SarEr appeared, walking on the street, getting off a motorcycle, at the entrance of a unisex salon, laughing with two other men. He wanted to see him right now, touch him, hold him, and discover why he'd changed so much. It didn't matter that SarEr looked so different.

He needed to get to Tokyo, today, right now, would be ideal if that were possible, but a few hours would have to do. He reached for his cell phone.

“I am also to tell you that if you chose to go to Tokyo to take only one person you trust. Only one, Sir, and no one involved with your dealings with the consortium.”

“Sulan is enough,” Choi Yang said. “We’re leaving immediately.”

***