Into the shadows

» Kahala

"Khan!" Kamasami Khan heard Bodhicita Guzman scream. "Khaaaaaan!"

A knee to the groin, a chop to the back of the neck, a kick to the head, and Fon Du was out for the count.

"Hang on, Bodhicita," Khan said, stepping inside, out of the light, into the shadows.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, and as they did, Khan couldn't help thinking, God, it feels good to finally deck a Communist! And there's more to come.

Across the spacious, elegant living area, he saw the Te-Wu agent playing a Muslim imam holding a black blade to Bodhicita's throat. Sobbing and trembling, she was all but nude except for the sensible gray shoes, her gray Sister Mary Miraculoso habit torn away, and in terrified modesty clutched the remnants of what had been underwear until they met the sharp black blade.

"You," Khan said in Mandarin, "limp member of a 1,000-year-old geezer! So brave to attack a nun! Why not face a real man, little limp one?!"

Khan did have a way with words.

And they had precisely the effect he wanted.

The eyes and nostrils of the one his Te-Wu colleagues called Devil Snake flared in anger.

Khan quickly scanned the rest of the living area -- there had been three of them, including the agent dressed as a rabbi. Where was he?

The cool-headed agent known as Le Nip had gone to change out of his rabbi robes, ridiculously hot in this Hawaii weather. That the Snake continued to wear the robes of an imam was proof that he was over-the-edge mad. Wasn't it true all around the world that the mad ones still wore heavy coats on sweltering August days? That particles of the girl's vomit still clung to the robes spoke even more to madness.

So as Fon Du and the Snake argued over who would do what first to the girl who had betrayed them, landing four agents in FBI custody today, Le Nip hurried to change into his last line of undercover self-defense everywhere he traveled for Te-Wu. It was time, because if they didn't already know, surely the FBI and HPD would soon know that this lovely beachfront estate was not merely the home of employees of the Bank of Lhasa's Bishop Street office, but the home of Chinese Communist agents who were actively trying to kill the second Lama Jey Tsong Khapa. It was time to go.

So he quickly changed into the uniform of a cleaning man -- crisp white and navy-trimmed shirt and trousers, matching Ben Hogan-style cap. The name on the patch on his shirt was the same as on the fake ID and Taiwan passport he'd instructed Fon Du to provide him, Wing Ding Yee.

"Stop!" he heard Fon Du bark beyond his door. "Who are you?!"