Reign of Coins Read online

  Shallow. I see it now, although it had been a way of emotional survival that had served me well for centuries. I guess it goes to show I was never truly in love until I met Beatrice. Perhaps the greatest mercy I could’ve offered her was to turn around and walk out of that crowded, post-war pub in Glasgow before she and I locked eyes and I said hello….

  “Son, are you ready to go?”

  Alistair shook me from my downward spiral, and Sulyn looked on compassionately. If not for Amy Golden Eagle’s hold on my boy’s heart, they’d make an intriguing pair that could be a great looking couple in just a few more months of age regression for Alistair. I smiled at the thought he certainly wouldn’t be calling me ‘son’ in public for much longer.

  “Yeah…bottoms up.” I downed the rest of my bourbon.

  I needed the kick to forget about the past I couldn’t change, and prepare for what the near future held. Christian Morrow would be gracing us with his vile presence very soon. Would Viktor Kaslow follow with an encore performance?

  I shuddered as we stepped out into the sunshine and our waiting limousine. If Kaslow was lying in wait for our arrival at the convention, at least we’d go out in style.

  Yeah, bad joke. It wasn’t funny to me either.

  Thankfully, when we arrived at Sulyn’s place of employment, I didn’t sense danger. Despite Kaslow’s recent surprise visit the other night, I remained confident my survival instincts would give me a heads-up if serious peril was in the air. I detected nothing—at least not a predatory scent as we stepped out of the limo and entered the building.

  “You’re late!”

  Christian Morrow tapped his diamond-studded Rolex while acting like an impertinent asshole. He needed to be taught several lessons in humility and kindness, and I’d gladly volunteer to do it if I thought that shit would take to his stubborn soul. But arrogant idiots like him were best suited for the trash-heap.

  I glanced at my watch and looked up at the much bigger timepiece on the wall. We were less than two minutes behind schedule.

  “She isn’t late, mister,” I said, which drew an immediate worried look from my boy. “Sulyn had something important to take care of for me and my dad first. Hopefully, that’s not too big an issue for you.”

  Yes, it did make me feel a little better. All in all, I thought it was a fine job of getting this jerk to back off. Of course, if my so-called ‘dad’ had been anyone other than someone he esteemed as important, this little exercise would’ve likely worsened things. Morrow gave me a slightly dirty look and nodded to Alistair in a semi-friendly manner. No real harm done, though he didn’t bother to regard Sulyn…at least not until she addressed him.

  “Follow me to where we convened yesterday,” she told him, and then motioned for us to come along again. Morrow didn’t put up a fuss this time. “The remaining collection you inquired about yesterday afternoon has already been delivered, and the cases are set up.”

  We followed her across the open hall to the boardroom. Mr. Lao waited for us, looking almost as surly as Morrow.

  “Everything is ready for your viewing,” said Lao, quietly. He offered a slight bow to Morrow and to Alistair, and might’ve done the same for me if not for our ‘male debutante’ brushing by him as if he wasn’t there.

  “This is everything?” Morrow acted supremely disappointed despite the presence of seven glassed cases carefully positioned along the length of the cherry table dominating the room. Yet, I sensed he fully expected to find this arrangement to look exactly as it did.

  “It is the rest of what my grandfather is willing to share for viewing,” said Sulyn, with a little more sternness than I expected. Her boss seemed taken aback, as if he’d be left alone to sooth Morrow’s ruffled feathers.

  “Where are the Mongolian items?” Morrow moved casually from case to case, paying little attention to any of the cases’ contents. “Other than common money pieces and the artifacts from yesterday, I see very little that speaks to what should be here. Do you always treat the world’s more esteemed collectors with such shabbiness?”

  Careful, jackass…. It wouldn’t take much to take those patent leather Testonis and shove them far enough down your throat to where a call to Kaslow would remain a muffled whisper forevermore.

  “On the contrary, Mr. Morrow, we have taken great pains to show you nearly three hundred coins unseen outside my family’s walls in more than a century,” she said, her tone cool but professional. “However, if you would rather rejoin the rest of the convention, I will be more than happy to immediately return these items to my grandfather’s estate.

  For a moment, he looked like he might ask her to do just that. But then he hesitated, snickering softly. “Give me a moment to take a closer look…in case I missed anything of interest.”

  Moving around the table, he paused to study a particular item or two. When he returned to where she stood, he regarded her with more hostility than before.

  “I want you to deliver a message to your grandfather, if you would be so kind,” he said, his lifeless tone undermining the positive inferences of his words. “I want to see whatever he has available that pertains personally to Genghis Khan. Am I clear?”

  Sulyn said nothing, but accepted Morrow’s business card. He turned and offered another respectful nod to Alistair before walking out of the room without acknowledging anyone else. Lao’s complexion had turned almost as ashen as Alistair’s skin tone in midwinter.

  “I’ll be expecting Cheung Yung-ching’s call this evening,” Morrow called over his shoulder. He strolled casually across the hall. I wondered how long it would be before Kaslow showed up at the Exhibition and Convention Centre to pull a Valentine’s Day massacre.

  “What a charmer that young man has become,” observed Alistair, shaking his head. “He wasn’t like that when I knew him during his time at Georgetown. I remember him stating once that while he wanted to please his father, he didn’t want to be anything like him.”

  “My, how time has changed that perspective,” I deadpanned. “He’s a lot like his dad, from what I’ve read about Jeremiah Morrow. Most of us, it seems, are destined to be like our parents. But, in his case, I’d hardly expect him to want to leave this life before he’s forty, which seems destined.”

  “Do you need our assistance in getting this stuff back to your grandfather?” asked Alistair, moving over to the glass case closest to him. “This doesn’t have to be a complete waste of time. In fact, I see some items here that I’d be honored to have a closer look at.”

  It was the perfect response to lift Sulyn’s spirits, and for much of the next two hours, she and he discussed the items in each glassed case in the room. Mr. Lao, meanwhile, excused himself to oversee other business in the convention center. Content to stand back while they enjoyed each other’s company, I kept my eyes, ears, and intuitions alert for the emergence of a certain Russian menace that certainly knew by now where we were.

  Chapter 15

  “Don’t worry, they should be here at any moment,” said Sulyn.

  It was after dinner and the three of us waited in a deserted parking lot for her personal guards to arrive. A poorly lit and crumbling parking lot, I should say, and located in one of the seedier Hong Kong neighborhoods. The shipping warehouse Cheung Yung-ching had mentioned earlier that day stood ominously before us, like a malevolent sentinel sworn to protect its darkest secrets.

  It occurred to me that it would’ve been prudent to find out exactly when Cheung’s brother ceased coming to this place. Especially if Yung-fa was as frail as Yung-ching before he died. He might not have conducted business at this address in many years.

  For the moment, I wasn’t as worried about Kaslow ambushing us as I was about the ancient floorboards giving way. Sulyn had advised the office sat on the top floor of five. But, without obvious signs of electricity, we’d scale the stairs in darkness. Not a significant problem for my eyes, which have operated in dimness for many years. However, worrying about anyone else’s safety, while keepin
g an eye out for an assassin’s laser sight beam escalated the risk factor.

  “Will your guards be bringing flashlights?”

  I tried not to come across as abrasive, but sitting in front of a dilapidated building in a bad neighborhood, where even the locals knew better than to venture onto a deserted street, was asinine. No streetlights either. Just our fancy limousine idling while we awaited reinforcements to keep the city’s hoodlums at bay. We might soon be General Custer and his Seventh Calvary waiting for help on Last Stand Hill.

  “Here they come,” Sulyn advised, as a pair of headlights appeared at the end of a long row of empty buildings. “They should have everything we’ll need. If they don’t, I’ll send someone to get it while we wait.”

  Her eyes twinkled with excitement. Alistair seemed to be looking forward to what lay ahead, as well. Here I thought it would be just me with the butterflies, since I was getting closer and closer to retrieving my coin from its hiding place. Even so, I couldn’t shake the feeling we should be proceeding with more caution, or not at all, before daylight.

  When the silver late model Lexus pulled up next to us, it appeared Cheung Yung-ching had sent his fiercest guards. Sulyn leaned over the front seat and advised the limousine driver something undecipherable to me. The driver, a young man who looked barely old enough to chauffeur a car like this one, nodded in response. He removed something wrapped in dark cloth from the glove box and set it next to his lap. She smiled at him before exiting the car with Alistair and myself following close behind her.

  Moments before I joined everyone in the eroded parking area, I noticed a small Glock peering out from under the cloth. A larger risk factor to this little trek than our hostess would freely admit, Sulyn averted my probing gaze by asking her guards to produce their flashlights. Two powerful halogens no bigger than any of our pinkies reflected near-blinding beams off the building’s dingy windows.

  “It has been awhile, but I can lead us to Cheung Yung-fa’s office,” said Sulyn, as we headed up the short flight of crumbling cement stairs to the door. “It doesn’t look like anyone has been here lately, so that bodes well for us.”

  Not sure I’d agree with her assessment, but the place did look abandoned and forlorn. Even so, someone with Kaslow’s skill set could easily infiltrate a target area like this, collect the desired prize, and be on his way without any obvious signs he’d ever been there. Or, he could be waiting for us to enter the building and then Bam!

  The thing that did bode well for us was how Morrow sounded yesterday and this afternoon, as if he had no idea where the map was actually located. That meant Kaslow didn’t know either. We were safe until the moment one of us held it in our hand.

  “Watch out for rabid vermin on the loose,” I said, playfully, though my boy shot me a look imploring me to shut the hell up.

  “Hopefully, we won’t come across any vermin—animal or otherwise,” she said, unlocking the door. “Follow me.”

  She took my son’s hand in hers and they stepped inside, followed by one of her guards. The rest of the armed foursome pulled up the rear behind me.

  Talk about a ramshackle hellhole. It looked like no one had been here in many, many years. Once inside, something scurried past my feet and Alistair’s. A mirthful moment followed, when he nearly jumped into Sulyn’s arms. Certainly, he’d see things differently. I stifled a snicker, but one of the guys behind me didn’t. My protective paternal instincts almost kicked in, until I saw Sulyn wrap her arm inside of his to pull my boy closer to her. The poor kid would be just fine.

  Several more critters scurried across the floor, but Alistair was paying more attention to the enormous webs we passed as we reached the stairs.

  “It looks worse in here than I expected,” Sulyn admitted. “Grandfather said it shouldn’t be as bad upstairs.”

  At least the stairs themselves seemed fine, and were made from sturdy oak that had escaped the dry rot I noticed throughout the main floor. As we moved up each floor, the glow from the flashlights briefly illuminated dustier windows than the ones downstairs. The limousine’s parking lights were a dull glow. Its motor idled smoothly, as if the kid was ready to take off at any moment. Thus far we were alone inside the place…I didn’t sense any predatory energy. The greatest danger was having something collapse on us, or falling through an unseen hole.

  When we reached the fifth floor, it seemed more complete than anywhere else. Not near as dusty and overrun with cobwebs either. As if someone occasionally had taken pains to maintain it while ignoring the rest of the building, the floors and walls were almost entirely free of holes and other obvious signs of decay and disuse.

  Sulyn quickened her pace, and the guards closest to her kept up. She directed one of them to point a halogen beam toward a door at the end of a hallway to our left.

  “When we are inside, it should take only a few minutes to get what we came for,” she said, once the rest of us caught up with her again. “I have my grandfather’s and great uncle’s birth dates memorized, as well as the lock’s pattern.”

  Then this should be a lickety-split maneuver. That would be good. We were all right for the moment, but my instincts urged me to make sure we didn’t linger too long up inside the building.

  Suddenly, Sulyn seemed nervous, fumbling with the door’s key. I sensed it had nothing to do with the building’s creepiness or the possible presence of a gui. She’d been here before, perhaps on many occasions as a young girl…. Did something tragic take place in this room, beyond the scope of the personal history she had revealed to us?

  “Here, let me help you,” said Alistair, when her hand continued to shake after failing to insert the key.

  To my surprise, she allowed him to do it, and a moment later we stepped into the abandoned office of Cheung Yung-fa. The improved housekeeping on the fifth floor was even better in his office. Not immaculate, but only a thin layer of dust covered the desk and row of filing cabinets nearby. Sulyn immediately moved to the closet, where the door sat partially open.

  “Hopefully, we are not too late….”

  Her words, but definitely my thoughts.

  She carefully opened the door fully, the flashlight’s beam revealing nearly an inch of undisturbed dust covering the floor and an old bank safe from near the turn of the previous century.

  “Hui Lin…bring the light closer to the safe,” she told the guard standing nearest to her.

  Once the numbers on the dial were clearly illuminated, Sulyn worked quickly to unlock the safe. It took three tries to get it right, but as she steadied her breathing and pace the door opened. We all moved closer for a better view.

  Lots of documents tied with string were stacked inside, along with a few bundles of letters held together by rubber bands. Also, a few loose bills from currency long outdated, and a rubber stamp with a dried-out inkpad. But no map.

  “I don’t see it,” she whispered, worriedly.

  Her shoulders began to shake, but then she caught herself. It didn’t mean the storm wasn’t still rolling in…it was just all inside of her now.

  “Why does it have to be obvious?”

  Alistair gently moved in to where Sulyn had slumped down onto the floor next to the safe as he said this. While Sulyn seemed fixated on a previous image of what she sought, Alistair quickly moved through the tied bundles. In the middle of one was a soft leather square the size of a standard checkerboard.

  “Oh, my God—you found it!”

  Sulyn’s surprise was matched by my sense of relief. Of course, I had to see the damned thing first in order to be sure. But from where I hovered behind them, I could see intricate details etched in the leather.

  “Is this sheepskin?”

  “No, Alistair, I believe it’s goatskin instead,” I said, after bending down to where Sulyn held the map.

  If it wasn’t the genuine article, then you could call me a monkey’s uncle. I had no doubts about its authenticity. My boy shot me an annoyed look, until Sulyn confirmed that goatskin was a materi
al favored by her ancestors.

  “Is there anything else you need from there?” I asked her, motioning to the documents and letters that might mean something to her or her grandfather. “If not, we should be going.”

  Once I realized we’d found what we came for, I started to feel queasy. An odd sensation I’ve rarely experienced, at first I didn’t know what to think of it. But then I remembered the last time I experienced such a feeling and what later transpired. Years after the crusades had ended, I was called on to aid the peace efforts between the Order of the Dragon and the Ottoman rulers. It was a terrible failure. Worst of all was the fact I had made bitter enemies amongst the highest leaders of the Dragons. To this day I seriously doubt the blood drinkers among them have ever forgiven me.

  And here I was just trying to help. Like my current cursed relationship with the CIA, as soon as things went to shit back then, I wanted out. Permanently. But, not the permanent manner they had in mind.

  For years, the famed Drakul—the cruelest menace to mankind I had ever encountered until Hitler—hunted me. He tracked me across Europe and Asia, and only relented when I reached the New World. Whenever close, I could feel him. I later found out he could ‘see’ what I saw through my eyes. When that happened, the strange sensation that visited me in Cheung Yung-fa’s abandoned office was what I experienced.

  Someone was looking through my eyes again. Could it be Drakul, having sensed my presence in this extreme corner of the Asian continent? It seemed unlikely he’d have an interest in treasures that won’t promote his eternal bloodsucking existence. But someone else I know could feel much differently about the map’s potential bounty.

  Viktor Kaslow? That vile bastard, mother….

  “We need to leave now!”

  Beyond scaring the holy hell out of Sulyn, her startled guards pulled out semi-automatic handguns and pointed them at me. What fun it would be for them to see bullet wounds form and then heal—unless they all went for kill shots. They would either watch my body die like an apparent ‘normal’ human being, or see it vaporize into thin air. In either case, I’d wake up someplace else in a brand new body that looks just like the one I presently reside within. As for Alistair and Sulyn—and likely her grandfather’s guardian hit men, they’d all be as good as dead.