Fonda Lee - Jade War

The man nodded and led the three of them to the bank of elevators. They ascended to the twelfth floor, where the premium suites were located. There was another barukan waiting in the elevator lobby, a younger man. They indicated by spreading their arms that the journalists would be searched before being allowed to proceed further. They patted Anden and Rohn down for weapons and examined Rohn’s camera equipment. The younger barukan man looked uncomfortable as he stood in front of Wen. Shotarians were a prudish people. Wen held her arms out and the man ran his hands down her sides, back, and legs and stepped away. Wen noticed that the green stones hanging around his neck were nephrite but the studs in his ears were jade. He paused for a moment, Perceiving that none of them possessed jade auras before leading them down the hall to the door of the suite at the end. He knocked and they were admitted inside.

Zapunyo was seated in a wide fabric armchair in the center of the suite’s sitting area. Wen was struck by how short he was; he looked almost childlike in the large chair and opulent hotel room. He wore a slightly creased tan linen suit with a folded white pocket square that suggested an attempt at formality. Wen could see the tops of his puffy veined feet bulging from brown loafers. Surprisingly, Wen’s first emotion upon finally seeing him in person was pity, almost sympathy. Zapunyo might be a rich man with an ambitious and dangerous mind, but he was trapped in a frail body. It was not right that such a man should control jade or challenge Green Bones.

Zapunyo’s eldest son stood near the window behind his father’s chair along with another bodyguard, bringing the total number of men to five, three of them barukan.

Anden said in Espenian, “Mr. Zapunyo, thank you for agreeing to this interview. This is a rare opportunity and I feel privileged that you would trust me to share your side of the story. Would you prefer that we have our conversation in Espenian or Kekonese? I can speak either.”

Zapunyo wetted his lips. “My Espenian is not so good. Let’s speak in Kekonese.”

“I promised to take no more than an hour of your time,” Anden said, switching instantly to Kekonese and sitting down in the chair across from the smuggler. “While we’re talking, my assistant will be sitting off to the side making notes for me, and the photographer will be taking some pictures. You can ignore them and pretend it’s a conversation between just the two of us.”

Wen smiled and nodded, pulling a chair to the side and sitting down in it. She opened her folio to an empty pad of paper and took the thick fountain pen out of her pocket. Near her, Rohn Toro began setting up the camera tripod. Zapunyo glanced at them before turning back.

“Where are your parents from, Mr. Caido?” the smuggler asked.

Anden said, “My mother was Kekonese. My father is Espenian.”

“But you have a Kekonese family name,” Zapunyo said.

“My parents didn’t stay together; I was raised by my mother.” Anden added, with a hint of forced amusement, “Are you planning to interview me, instead of the other way around, sir?”

“I’m curious about the background of any journalist who is so persistent in requesting a meeting with me,” Zapunyo said. One of his bodyguards placed a glass of sparkling water with a straw on the side table next to him. He took it and sipped before speaking again. “Were you born in Kekon or in Espenia, Mr. Caido? Why did your parents come to this country?”

“I was born in Kekon,” Anden said, “but I came to Espenia as a child.” It was the first half-truth that Anden had told, and even though Wen doubted any of the barukan were skilled enough in Perception to detect such a minor deception, with each subsequent falsehood, the subtle tension in Anden’s body would grow until it became suspicious. Wen uncapped her fountain pen and held it poised over the blank pad of paper. She glanced at Rohn Toro, crouched down on the other side of Zapunyo, snapping photographs.

“As for why my family came to Espenia,” Anden went on, “I think they believed there was opportunity here. They thought I could make a better life for myself in Port Massy, because I was born looking Espenian, and because Kekon was a dangerous place at the time. What about you, Mr. Zapunyo?” he asked, pivoting the conversation. “How did you get to where you are now?”

“That is the question we’re all asking ourselves every day, isn’t it, Mr. Caido? How did we get to where we are now?” Zapunyo smoothed the top of his dark, coarse hair, looking thoughtful. “How is it that in my family, there were seven children but only four of us survived, and out of the four of us, I was the one who made it out of the ghetto, who made something of myself even though I was always the smallest and the physically weakest of all the boys?”

Each of the barukan and Zapunyo’s son were armed with handguns and two of them carried durbh blades as well. Rohn Toro had circled back to where Wen sat. He attached the camera onto the tripod. Anden said, “What do you think is the reason, Mr. Zapunyo? Do you believe that perhaps it was your fate, being directed by a higher power such as the gods?”

Zapunyo held up a stumpy finger and his eyes glistened with satisfaction. “I do believe the gods have some say, that is true, but men set their own destinies. For example, who’s to say what brings any two people together at a certain time and place for them to change each other’s lives?”

The smuggler turned a shrewd look on Anden. “I have many enemies, and naturally, before I agreed to meet with you, I had to check your credentials. Mr. Caido indeed works for the Kekon Journal and has written many articles and conducted many interviews. But you are not Ray Caido, are you?” Zapunyo fished a small black-and-white photograph from the front pocket of his suit and held it up. It appeared to be a yearbook photograph. “You don’t look like him. But you insist on meeting me, unarmed and on my terms, so you’re not here to kill me.”

Wen felt sweat break out on her back. She twisted the barrel of her pen and dropped it. It rolled off her lap and onto the floor. Rohn bent to retrieve it for her. Anden didn’t look at them; he sat completely still and stone-faced, not speaking. Zapunyo, looking smug, said, “Who sent you to seek me out? The Mountain clan? Or is it the Kekonese here in Espenia who want jade?”

Wen’s fountain pen broke easily. As Rohn pulled the thin string of tiny jade stones from inside the barrel, Anden leaned forward. “You’re wrong, Zapunyo. I am here to kill you.”

All of Zapunyo’s guards drew their guns at the same time, ready to unload a dozen bullets into Anden’s body. Two of them began to turn toward Rohn, detecting the sudden flare of a jade aura a split second before the Green Bone unleashed a Deflection that tore through the small confines of the hotel room. It knocked over the camera tripod, sent the water from the glass spraying, and slammed into the men who were standing, shoving them into the walls and furniture.

Gunshots rang out. Wen dropped flat to the ground, ears ringing, heart in her throat. She saw Anden throw himself onto Zapunyo, covering the smuggler’s body with his own. As he dragged them both out of the chair and onto the floor, Anden maneuvered behind Zapunyo and wrapped his arms around the man’s neck and thin shoulders, pinning him, then rolling over and ducking his own head so the smuggler lay struggling with his back on Anden’s chest, trapped as an unwilling shield; the bodyguards couldn’t shoot Anden without hitting their boss as well.

With her face against the carpet, Wen saw Zapunyo’s son shout, “No, Pap!” His eyes widened with panic as he tried to decide where to aim his gun. With a burst of Strength, Rohn Toro flew at him and struck him in the throat, crushing his windpipe. As Zapunyo’s son collapsed, Rohn twisted the gun from his grip and whipped it up, firing it—one, two, three times. One of the bodyguards went down; another brought up a desperate blast of Steel and Deflection that sent the final bullet into the hotel room window. The two remaining barukan returned fire; Rohn dove to the ground and fired twice, blowing out the kneecaps of the nearest man, who screamed as he fell, before Rohn’s next two shots silenced him.