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Thursday, October 14, 2004
No flashing blue lights
Despite the comfy king-size bed, despite the five Tsing-taos he'd knocked back (he was normally a two-beer guy) with room-service dinner, and despite staying up until past 2 a.m. trying to figure what he was going to do, Lu Wi did not slept well.
As Te-Wu's house boy, he was good at planning a menu or a shopping list. Beyond that, having been raised on Communism, independent thought and action did not come easy. And he was doing this all alone -- the rest of his Te-Wu brethren were behind bars. And the lovely Su Lik, on whom he thought he could depend for support, had ended their affair because he was loyal to China and Te-Wu.
He was also without a serious weapon, other than a knife.
Mostly, he was without a plan.
He knew where the kid lived, knew two females lived there with her. Didn't know about the young man he'd seen them dropping off at a Waikiki hotel, or if anyone else lived there. He supposed he should try to learn that, and gave himself a pat on the back for good spycraft.
Beyond that, he'd have to wing it, wait for an opportunity. That was where he'd left it when sleep at last came.
Lu Wi awoke early, cranky and slightly hungover.
The hotel room came with one of those little coffee makers, and he started a pot.
Showering -- an American custom he had to admit was superior to bathing habits n China -- an idea flashed in his head. School! The girl must attend school! If he could follow her from home to school, he could grab her!
On the other hand, he figured that the second Lama Jey Tsong Khapa would probably be visiting the girl, or vice versa, and he wondered if maybe the young guy from the hotel was actually the lama in disguise?
So maybe he should hold off on killing the kid until the lama showed?
It can't be that tough, Lu Wi used to think when he heard the regular agents talking about their work. But now he was having second thoughts about that. Maybe he was in over his head?
No, Lu Wi could not allow negative thoughts like that. This was his chance to show Beijing what he could do. Soon he was on his mo-ped, heading out to Hawaii Kai, where the girl lived.
Su Lik had not slept well, either. If she'd only known Lu Wi was Te-Wu, she'd never have gotten involved, never have let him become the first man she gave herself to. It was Te-Wu who had killed her father and tortured Falun Gung friends. And she felt uneasy about the call she made to 911 last night, didn't trust the guy she'd spoken with to get it right. Grabbing some change, she headed for the pay phone beside the little market on McCully.
See the Columnists section for some past articles.
Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek. His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin. He can be e-mailed at firstname.lastname@example.org
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