Home Free - Fern Michaels [50]
“For starters, Harry, you are not one of them. You are American! You getting all this, you dumb shit? If not, I’m calling Yoko right now, and she’s going to be pissed to the teeth that you and your problems are interfering with the evergreen party she has going on at the nursery with the Sisters. Now, make the call!” Jack said, stomping his foot on the wood floor. His eyes popped wide when the old master toppled over.
Harry winced.
“I’m waiting to hear your melodic response, Harry Wong,” Jack singsonged.
“Okay, okay.”
“Okay, who . . . what?” Jack snapped.
“Okay to everything. You win! You happy now? You and Bert are now my new masters. If I don’t win the competition, I will kill you. You know that, right?”
“Ha-ha-ha! If Bert and I are good enough to get you to the competition, what makes you think you could take us both out?”
Harry smiled. Jack’s blood ran cold as he watched Harry place his call. Bert and Jack gave up trying to understand what he was saying in what seemed like five different languages, including Russian. They did, however, grimace at Harry’s grim look. Then they watched in horror as Harry went over to his desk and fished around until he found his checkbook.
“No, no, no, you are not paying again. Put that damn checkbook back where you got it. Right now, Harry!” Bert and Jack roared in unison.
To their surprise, Harry did as instructed. They watched as Harry walked over to his dead master, sat down, and assumed the lotus position.
With nothing else to do, Jack and Bert sat down and waited. Twenty minutes later, a dark-colored station wagon pulled into Harry’s driveway. Minutes later, four Asian men walked into the dojo. Jack wasn’t sure, but he thought they were the same four men who carried out Harry’s first master. They watched as the men approached Harry, who was so still, Jack wasn’t sure his friend wasn’t as dead as the master at Harry’s side.
“I’ll take the two on the left. You okay with the other two, Bert?”
“I am. Harry’s eyes are closed. Is that a good or bad sign?”
“Like I know! We’re not going to get any help from Harry. He’s in one of his trances.”
“You pay now,” one of the four said.
Harry remained still and silent.
The second man said, “You pay now.”
“I don’t think so,” Jack said. “Take your master and go. Don’t come back. Mr. Wong no longer requires your services.”
The third man said, “You no pay, we no take master. You pay now!”
Harry’s eyes flew open.
“Oh, shit!” Bert said.
The four men eyed Harry intently before they turned to look at the two men who were advancing behind them. The fourth man, who hadn’t spoken, nodded to his companions.
“Lights! Camera! Action!” Jack roared as his feet left the floor. When they came down, the third man in the group was so dazed, he crumpled to the floor. The air moved at such a high rate of speed, the figures blurred and merged into a giant globe of human movement. Arms flailed, legs went everywhere as bodies twirled and twisted as grunts and high-pitched sounds swirled around the dojo. It was over within minutes.
Bert ran to his locker and returned with a bunch of flexicuffs from his duffel bag.
“I assume you have a plan, Mr. ex–FBI director,” Jack drawled.
“Jesus, I can’t believe you did this and that I helped you,” Harry said, awe ringing in his voice.
“And your checkbook is intact,” Bert said as he clipped the flexicuffs onto the four men. “We drag them out to that vehicle they came in and we lay the master out in the backseat. What they do after that is up to them. You okay, Harry?”
“Yeah. They’ll send another master when these guys report back. That’s the rule.”
“No, they won’t.” Bert whipped out his old FBI pass and badge and told Harry to photocopy it. “I know for a fact these guys won’t mess with the FBI. You’re still standing there, Harry. C’mon, chop-chop. Jack and I will drag these guys out to the car. Then we’ll come back to get the other two, and you bring the esteemed and very dead master. It’s the least you can do, Harry.”
Outside in the frigid air, Jack grunted