 
Brand New Day – Part Two: Coming Together

Copyright © 2015 by Wren Rogers

Published and distributed by Eastside Publications

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief (cited) quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

ISBN 978-0-9972795-1-1

website – www.wrenrogersbooks.com

email –contact@wrenrogersbooks.com

The Brand New Day series is a work of fiction based certain facts. With some exceptions, the businesses, streets, buildings, bridges and other historical and geographical details are based on fact.

In some examples, characters may use foul language; engage in explicit sexual acts, violence and other illegal activities. Characters may abuse drugs and alcohol, use racial stereotyping, bigotry, and make offensive racial remarks and or actions. The viewpoint of these characters is not in any way related to the personal viewpoints of the author.

None of the content in this book, or any in the series, was intended to offend, anger, profile or otherwise cause any gender, race, color, creed or doctrine harm or distress.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

More books in the series.

Author Bio
Chapter 1

The silver 777 touched down on the French tarmac right on time. Ellen jolted in her sleep as the tires burped their squealing cry. Opening her eyes, she came awake with excitement. Far away from Cincinnati, she was totally unaware of the dire circumstances back home that had taken place since she left.

Departing off the plane, Ellen's only focus was on her next move. The painful thoughts of Rob and their last encounter were suppressed into her subconscious. This would be her last layover before arriving in Vietnam. Even though she was still thousands of miles away, she felt closer to seeing her unknown sister Maria than she ever imagined. The reality of the trip was fueling her enthusiasm.

Back on The Good Ship Cincinnati, Chef Rob's elevated position was troubled with uncertainty. Prepping the line, he felt an odd fear. Not a fear of his ability to apply his trade, or of his ability to lead The Ship into new waters, but a fear of the deal he had made with George. He knew George could not be trusted. Ralph had found that out the hard way. Now Rob had no choice but to trust him.

Carefully boning a fish, Rob wondered what fate would befall him now. Would George hold true to his word? Could he really find Ellen? Did Rob actually have full control over The Ship and her crew? If so, he was certain he could hold on until Ellen was safe at home with him again. If not, he could be wasting valuable time better spent searching for her himself.

In the kitchen, things looked perfectly normal. Miguel and the crew prepped the line, obviously hung over from a hard night at The Pub. Mexican music blared from the greasy stereo speakers. Armando and Micah were putting the big pots of sauces on to simmer as Rob made his rounds, inspecting the equipment and stocks for any irregularity. All seemed well behind the line. Before the doors were opened, Charley came back to the kitchen.

"Hey guys, you all need to come out to the dining room. We have a staff meeting before we open today."

As the kitchen crew filed out of the swinging doors, they wondered what the meeting was about. Only Rob knew the true meaning.

The crew talked amongst themselves as they shuffled to their seats on the patio. Scanning the crowd, Charley stood in front of the group. They couldn't help but notice that she was uncharacteristically dressed in an expensive form clinging fashion dress and satin high heeled shoes rather than the plain black work clothes she usually wore. They wondered why, of all the servers, Charley was dressed like this, and even more so, why she was addressing them.

"Hi everyone," Charley said, getting their attention. "This meeting is to tell you all know about the new changes here on The Ship. First of all, I have a couple of announcements. First, Sandra will no longer be with us. She has been offered an exciting new job on a cruise line that required her to leave for Jamaica early this morning. Of course we will miss her on The Ship, and I am sure we are all excited for her and wish her all the luck in the world with her new career."

Wide-eyed faces shot glances of surprise to one another at the news of Sandra. Noticing their curiosity, Charley continued.

"Second, Ralph is no longer owner of The Ship. Ralph has left to retire and spend more time with his family, relaxing and enjoying life. I wish him well as I'm sure all of you do too. Now, I would like to you to meet our Good Ship's new owner, George Achmed. George is here to introduce himself and say a few words."

Charley sat down with the rest of the crew as George took her place in front of the curious staff.

"Hello to all of you. As Charley said, I am George Achmed, the proud new owner of The Good Ship Cincinnati. Under my ownership, I wish to promote and encourage the talent in each and every one of you. With your help and hard work, we will see The Good Ship become not just a Cincinnati dining destination, but The Cincinnati dining destination. I have full confidence Chef Rob will lead us into a new level of excellence. Unlike The Ship's previous owner, I will be here for each and every service, attentively listening to your complaints and suggestions."

As he continued, George's words peaked the curiosity of every crewmember, everyone except Rob.

"My first order of business is to name the new general manager... A lady of fine taste and tremendous talent... Miss Charley Peyton."

Hearing Charley would be their new manager, the crew murmured, exchanging teasing glances and subtle smirks. George didn't notice, nor pause.

"Charley will assume control of all General Manager duties from this day on. All daily staff concerns will be addressed by her."

As the staff murmured to one another, Charley watched their faces with silent contempt.

Lighting a cigar with a posh ritual, George continued.

"We all know Chef Rob has been doing an amazing job in The Ship's kitchen. Now, he has the total freedom to change the menu at will, introduce unique dishes and spectacular seasonal specials that will no doubt have critics raving and customers filling our reservation book as never before. Chef Rob will now be the ultimate authority here on our Good Ship, aside from myself of course. He and Charley will guide this fine vessel into new waters, higher profits and of course bigger tips for all of you."

Miguel nudged Rob with a wink. The compliment felt meaningless as Rob feigned a smile. Puffing his cigar, George held his arms out wide as he went on.

"I realize many of you are uneasy about such sudden changes, but I assure you, together we will steer The Ship into a better and brighter future than she would have ever seen under her previous flag. So without any further delay in your duties, I want to wish you all the best of success in making our Ship the finest restaurant to ever grace the shores of this city. If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to voice them to myself, or your new manager Charley."

Smiling, George waved as he walked away to the bar. The crew stared at one another in disbelief and amazement. Miguel looked at Rob curiously with eyebrows raised.

"Señor Rob, did he really say Charley ees the manager now? Charley, the snotty server?"

Rob looked at his watch as he got up off his seat.

"Yep, that's what he said Miguel. Now lets get back to the line and get ready for lunch as usual."

With quick clicking steps, Charley rushed to Rob's side as he walked to the kitchen.

"Rob, I need to meet with you before the lunch rush. We can go over a few things. You can get me up to speed with what you need from me. You know, scheduling, ordering, all that good stuff."

Never breaking stride, Rob replied as she followed along.

"Sure Charley, I would be happy to. How fast do you want to get up to speed?"

Stopping, he turned towards her. Leaning close, he whispered.

"Would you like a quickie in the office now, or would you prefer we meet later, so you can take it all in nice and slow?"

Shooting him a smug look, Charley hung a hand on her hip.

"Real funny... Rob, I hope you and I are going to get along. I plan to treat you as a professional in my new role as manager. I assume you will treat me the same."

Rob pushed through the swinging doors.

"Sure Charley. A Professional... Got it," he said as the doors swung shut.

Charley stood still in her pose, staring in anger as he disapeared.

"Fucking dick," she said under her breath. "He thinks he can talk shit then walk off from me. This will get straightened out, one way or another."

Stirring a huge pot of sauce, Miguel watched over his shoulder as Rob began to unroll his knife set onto the shiny stainless counter. Miguel was curious. He had not seen Rob take out his knives in a long time.

"Chef, you a-cooking tonight?" Miguel asked.

Rob shrugged with a nod in reply.

"Hey, Chef, is Charley really the manager?" Micah asked.

Rob nodded again.

"She doesn't know shit! She can barely serve, let alone manage. She's gonna' fuck everything up when we get hit. What the hell are we going to do now?" Micah asked in a huff.

With a laugh, Rob pointed towards a big shiny bowl. "The first thing we are going to do is put that fried cheesecake on the menu for tonight. Lets get it prepped and portioned, lets do... say, fifty servings to start."

Micah relaxed with Rob's words. Miguel spoke up from the stove.

"Sure thing amigo! Armando! Get een here, we need you to get dees mixer ready!"

The two line cooks worked without any words between them as they began slicing open large packages of cream cheese. Micah scraped fresh vanilla beans with a sharp knife as Miguel cracked dozens of eggs together into the bowl. Soon the big Hobart began to spin. Tasting the raw batter, Rob smiled with approval as Miguel began spooning the rich mixture into delicate molds.

Micah slipped a Grateful Dead CD into the stereo. "Man, I hope that bitch can figure out how to run this place and fast. That's all I know..." he said as the song began to play.

The tune sang out as the crew worked, all the while they wondered how Charley could possibly fulfill her new role with no experience, or training.
Chapter 2

Stepping into the French airport, Ellen was dumbfounded by the sheer volume of people. Crowds were pushing and shoving on both sides of her. Not having to bother with waiting for her luggage, Ellen headed straight to the customs line. The officer barely even looked up at her as he casually stamped her passport and waved her along.

Walking on down the massive corridor, she followed the crowd down a pink escalator, stopping at a row of green machines. Everyone was feeding bills into the machines and taking tickets. Watching the people, she paused, not sure what to do next. Knowing she did not want a repeat of her initial New York experience, she asked what appeared to be a valet the best way to get to a hotel.

"Just take the RER," he replied, pointing over his shoulder.

"Where would you stay if you were a first time visitor?" she asked, smiling with exuberance.

Looking around from side to side, he ignored her for a moment as he scanned the line for his next customer.

"Uhh... I would... I guess I... I dunno' lady. I have never really thought about it."

Turning away, he approached a man with a large case.

Standing ignored, Ellen looked around with confused eyes. Huge signs in French hung all around, pointing with bold arrows, none of which made any sense to her whatsoever. Among the crowd, she saw a welcome sight, a security officer. Having such luck with her new found New York security friend, she jogged up beside him, tugging his sleeve.

"Hi! I just arrived here. I have quite a long layover and I am looking for the easiest way to get to a hotel."

"Have you ever been here before?" he asked. Looking irritated due to her unexpected tug, he relaxed as he listened to her spill her naive tale.

"No, I'm from Ohio. I've never even left my home town before. Well once, my dad and I took a trip to the Smoky Mountains, but that was just a day's drive from Cincinnati... I'm sorry, my name is Ellen, Ellen Addison, how do you do?"

Shaking her hand slowly, he looked her over.

"This is a big city," he said. "Many thieves and pickpockets around here... all over you know. You would do well to just stay at the Sheraton. It's right over there. You don't even have to leave the airport. I would stay there and wait for your flight if I were you."

Her smile disappeared. Sensing his remarks sounded harsh, he motioning her to follow him.

"Come, come walk with me. There is a great bakery right over here. You can get some wonderful 'pain au raisin' uh how would you say... uh... raisin bread," he said smiling.

Ellen smiled back.

"You go to the bakery, right there. It says 'Paul' on the sign. It's right over there. After that, then you go down that corridor. You will see the hotel there. It's a very nice hotel."

Ellen had been filled with excitement to see something of Paris, but under the circumstances, she knew he was right. She should just get her room here, rest up, shower and stay safe inside the airport.

"You know, I think I will. What did you say the name of that good bread was? I am pretty hungry."

Smiling again, he pointed at the black storefront.

"Pawn-ah-ray-sawn," he said slowly. "You will love it."

Smiling back, Ellen thanked him as she headed towards the bakery, keeping her bag pulled tight under her arm. This layover was going to be easy and stress free. She was beginning to learn to travel with the caution she naively lacked initially. It was becoming more apparent to her now. She was far from home and all alone. Chances and risks were not wise, nor worth the danger. She had a mission to accomplish. This was not a vacation after all.

After checking in, she found her room. Swiping the key card through the electronic lock, she walked into the dimly lit space. Pulling the blinds open with a tug, her eyes gazed at her first view of a foreign city. It was more beautiful than she imagined.

The city skyline stood out impressively against the blue sky. Standing at the glass, she stared in silence, taking in the amazing architecture of the ancient buildings and bridges. The streets were a smash of compacted cars, seemingly inches from each other as they snaked across the streets. She knew there was so much to discover out there. So many sights to see right in front of her she may never have the chance to see again.

Turning back to the room, she tossed her bag on the desk and fell to the bed. The fatigue of the long flight was beginning to take hold. Sliding back on the clean smelling sheets, she clicked on the TV. Browsing through the channels, she didn't even pay any attention to the programs as the shows were all in French.

After a few minutes, Ellen lost interest and clicked it off. Her body was tired but her emotions were a mix of anxious nervousness and subconscious sadness. Suddenly she felt powerful loneliness taking hold of her. Her thoughts replayed the images and last words of her dad. Taking out his hand scrawled note from her pocket, tears welled in her sleepy eyes as she read his last words again "You are beautiful. You will find love."

"Maybe a deep sleep could wipe away these unwelcome feelings," she thought. Tossing in the big bed, she tried to fall asleep. It was no use. Her mind raced, flashes of the terrible scenes from the hospital kept her from feeling any peace.

Lying in squirming anguish, she realized she had only felt true peace when Rob held her close. Thoughts of him came to her rescue, filling her with a warm feeling all over. Just then, the notion hit her like a brick. She needed to call him and find out why Charley was naked in his kitchen, what his true interests in her were. Even though he was thousands of miles away, just to hear his voice again would settle her nerves and soothe her sanity. If he wasn't interested in her anymore, she needed some sort of resolve, or closure.

Swiping her phone to life for the first time since leaving Cincinnati, Ellen dialed Rob's number. The call reverted to an automated message.

"Please select an international carrier to complete this call..."

She had no idea what to do next. In haste, she picked up the phone beside the bed. With nervous fingers, she dialed the numbers again. A recorded operator rattled off a message in French. Hanging up, she called the front desk.

"I need to place a call to the US, but I just get a message I cannot understand. I do not speak French, could someone help me with the call?"

The suave voice on the phone explained to her what numbers to dial, the country code and procedure for making the call.

"We would need your credit card number, then we can help you connect your call. Or you can use a calling card..."

Realizing she didn't have either, she sighed in disappointment.

"Thanks, I will try again later. Thanks anyway."

Dismayed, she gave up on making the call for the moment. Curling up under the blanket, Ellen cuddled a pillow. Closing her eyes, she thought about Rob.

"Would he even want to speak to her now? Was Charley his new love interest, or just a careless fling? Should she forgive his hurtful indiscretion?"

In her emotional driven haste, she had disappeared without explaining her mission or even saying goodbye. No doubt she had worried him.

She imagined him being consoled by Charley and felt the hurt of seeing her naked at Rob's all over again. She thought back about that terrible night. The image of her panicking in bed, and her sudden disappearance was causing her to wonder what perception Rob would have of her now.

Wondering what he must be thinking, she felt tears welling. Without warning, the soul-destroying pain she felt at the hospital sank back into her mind. The tears turned to deep sobs, it was the first time she had gave in and let go of her feelings since that tragedy. The sobs turned to sleep. In her French hotel room, she lay sleeping in a dream, far away from her home, and the man she still longed for.
Chapter 3

Swaying gently on the waves of the muddy Ohio River, The Good Ship was bustling. Behind the line, Rob was directing the orders as the cooks carried them out. Servers jogged from kitchen to table, rushing to keep up with the pace. George looked on from a corner booth. He seemed pleased as he sipped a rocks glass of scotch, intently surveying the action with calculating eyes.

A Middle Eastern man in a sharp black Armani suit took a seat across from him in the booth. Charley came to the table just as he sat down.

"Charley, bring two glasses and the bottle of Jura. I placed the bottle behind the bar earlier."

With a shot she dashed to the bar, quickly returning with two polished glasses and the $600 bottle of prized liquor.

"Thank you my dear," he said as she paused at the table.

She stood waiting to see if he was going to introduce her to his mysterious friend, but instead he turned back to his guest, thanking her with no further conversation.

"You're welcome. I'll check back on you guys in a bit," she said, noticing no one was paying her any attention.

Frustrated, she turned slowly from the table.

"So, this is the place?" the man asked, surveying the scene as he sat down.

"Welcome to The Good Ship Cincinnati," George replied as he poured from the bottle.

"It's... it's nice," the man said with casual ambivalence.

George waved his hand. "Granted, it may not be a Manhattan hot spot, but this bustling boat is just what I need to begin my plan. This is a heavy cash business. I can run thousands a day through these registers, legally deposit it into a bank then transfer it to Bitcoin, and no one will ever be the wiser. Not the bank, nor the IRS, nor the..."

George's guest suddenly interrupted. "Nor the Feds... Right George?"

Pausing, George smiled as he replied. "Nor the feds my friend," he said, with a raised glass. They both smiled knowingly as they touched glasses with a clank.

The dining room was busy yet Charley wasn't paying the slightest attention to the hustle. Nervously biting her plastic nail, she stared from across the room at George's table with insatiable curiosity. She didn't even notice Heather standing beside her, asking about a credit card she found on the floor.

"Charley... Earth to Charley!" Heather said loudly.

Charley snapped out of her stare as she turned to her.

"What do you want Heather?"

Now Heather was watching the table Charley had been so focused on.

"Uh... I found this card on the floor," she replied, still staring at George's booth.

Brushing her off, Charley ignored the card in Heather's hand.

"Take it to the hostess and leave it with her, maybe someone will ask about it," she said.

Heather stood staring at the table.

"Who is that guy sitting with George?" Heather asked.

"Just a friend I guess," Charley replied, as if she didn't care.

"Hmmm, he is pretty hot," Heather said as she stared.

Looking irritated, Charley snatched the card out of Heather's hand.

"Don't you dare say a word to them Heather. Leave that table to me. George doesn't want to be bothered when he's in a meeting."

Heather laughed as she taunted Charley.

"Meeting? Looks more like a sit-down to me."

Shooting her a cold look, Charley snapped at her. "Just leave them alone Heather. Go take care of your tables, I'm sure you can sell some drinks or desserts to the customers finishing up."

Heather walked off to avoid any more of Charley's rude remarks. As she made her way through her tables, her eyes kept stealing glances at George's booth.

The sun began to set as the ship transitioned from lunch to dinner. The evening went by without an issue. Near ten o'clock, the dinner service was coming to a close. Rob had personally worked the line with the assistance of his crew to a flawless perfection. The servers knew they had great tips coming. Compliments had been dowsed on the service crew all night long.

"I simply loved the ribs... I can't get over how delicious this crab cake was... I have never had a better steak... even Ruby can't equal this filet... We had no idea there was food this good to be found in this city... This dessert is amazing, it will simply ruin my diet, but I just can't refuse another bite..."

Table after table, the guests had nothing to express except compliments bordering on pure rant and raves over how much they loved their food. That love translated into cold hard cash for the Ship's crew. Mostly it was all due to Rob's personal attention to the food. The servers knew it, the bartenders knew it, but Charley didn't care. She felt the night's success should somehow translate into compliments to her. Yet none were offered, not by the staff, nor the customers, and most importantly, not by George.

George did notice the flawless service. His sharp eyes watched each and every face. He saw the smiles and oohs & ahhs on the customer's lips as they dined. He knew Chef Rob was personally responsible for the fantastic success. Cranking out plate after plate of perfection continuously, from the first order of lunch to the last entrée of dinner. Secretly, George still harbored contempt for Rob.

"Who was this cook that had stood up to me so strongly, so arrogantly?" he wondered.

Running the end of shift report, Charley smiled as George walked over to her. Sliding a hand across her back, he rubbed down to her firm bottom. Pulling the ribbon of paper out of the printer she slid it through her fingers as she scanned the totals, $19,693. She had been left out of the nightly totals in the past. But when she saw the numbers, she knew this had to be good, maybe even an all time high.

"That has to be a record," she thought as she read the numbers again. Record or not, George should be pleased, that was her main concern.

George was indeed pleased. In fact he was ecstatic.

"Charley, before the staff starts leaving, call another meeting. I want to see everyone outside on the deck in fifteen minutes," he said as he walked away.

Walking over to the bar, he asked for another drink from Jules as he waited.

Running back to the kitchen, Charley poked her head through the pass.

"Rob, get your staff and meet us on the deck in ten."

Rob started to say something about tearing down the equipment to get out by midnight but she cut him off.

"Everyone on the deck in ten minutes, no exceptions," she said as she disappeared.

Miguel heard her and looked at Rob in dismay. Rob smiled.

"Don't worry, amigo, we will get out of here in time, trust me. I wanna' see what this is all about."

Miguel nodded in acknowledgment.

"Okay guys, aft deck, everyone, you too Armando," Miguel said as they wiped their hands, tossing their blackened towels in the bin, filing out to the deck alongside one another.

Spreading the word of the meeting to the staff, Charley embraced her task. It was her mission of the moment to gather the entire Good Ship crew to the deck in time. Walking out into the night air, she saw George leaning on the railing, a cloud of smoke drifting from his big cigar. Standing with his back to the crowd, George faced the river, waiting for the crew to gather on the deck chairs.

As the crew assembled, George puffed his cigar, leaning on the railing. The crew talked with hushed voices, questioning one another to the nature of the unprecedented late night meeting. After a brief pause, George turned to the crowd.

"I called you all out here because I wanted to say how proud I am of your hard work this first day of my ownership. Tonight the Good Ship will deposit almost twenty thousand dollars in the bank. All of that is due to your hard work. I realize you are thinking, 'What does that mean to me? That's your money, not mine.' Well, that is true. But think of this... I have worked with the richest businessmen around the world. I have worked with people who don't take a break for weeks or even months on end. They do it for one reason, top-level compensation. That's the fuel that drives business the world over.

Tonight, I wish to share that same fuel with you all. Charley will be passing out a bonus to all of you, a reward for your hard work. Consider this a token of my appreciation for a job not just well done, but exceptionally done well."

Walking around the crew, Charley handed out one hundred dollar bills to each and every crewmember, except the kitchen crew. To the line staff, she was instructed to hand out two hundred dollar bills. As she approached Rob, Miguel, Micah and Armando she peeled off two crisp hundred-dollar bills and handed them to each of them in turn.

Miguel looked at the bills in his hand.

"Chef... Ees this true?"

Rob looked at he bills in his hands, then at George, whispering back to Miguel.

"Take it, be glad you have the cash in hand, and don't ask questions. Just remember, nothing comes for free. I am getting to know this man more day by day. He's not what he seems amigo. I'm not sure why yet, but, just be glad you have the money."

With a yell, Armando laughed as he took his bills in hand.

"Hell yeah!" he said loudly.

George nodded towards him with a grin. Facing the staff again, George smiled along with the excited servers.

"Enjoy your bonus. There will be many more rewards like this to come. I believe in rewarding the people who deserve it. Tonight, you all came through, you all stayed strong and that effort pushed The Ship to a new level. I have several cabs waiting outside to take you to wherever you wish to go. Spend your hard earned bonus having a good time tonight. When you are all at the bar, cheers a drink for me. Now, get out of here and go to wherever the night finds you. Drink, dance and remember, hard work deserves great rewards on my watch. Good night to you all."

Rob counted the heads as George left: Six kitchen crewmembers at two hundred a piece. Plus ten servers and four busboys at one hundred each. George had just made more of an impression on the crew than any restaurant owner could have ever made, with twenty-six new hundred-dollar bills.

"He will still deposit a record night and come out smelling like a rose," Rob said to himself.

George had already bought Rob with their secret deal. Now, on his first day as owner, he had effectively bought the crew too, for pennies on the dollar compared to Rob's deal. As Rob and Miguel walked down the gangplank, Rob overheard the crew talking about how great it was to have George as the new owner.

As he listened to their praises, he realized the instant loyalty could be a blessing or a curse for the crew. He wondered what the real reasons were behind George's sudden interest in The Ship. This mysterious man had real money, probably more money than this floating restaurant could ever make in a lifetime. Why would he care about adding another risky, time consuming investment, that could never earn the kind of profits a man like George would see as worth the trouble? Rob felt a deep concern about George's sudden control of The Ship. Something just didn't make sense about the whole affair.
Chapter 4

As the last of the crew were heading off to enjoy what was left of the night, Charley was struggling to make sense of the nightly numbers and organize the server's cash outs in the office. Heather was stuck waiting for Charley to cash her out. After a long delay, she grew impatient.

"C'mon Charley! How hard can it be? I gave you my bank. Just deduct the cash total on my server number. Whatever is left is mine. You've done it a hundred times before with Sandra. Didn't you ever pay attention? Just give the report to me, I can do it myself, it's easy."

Charley ignored her. The truth was that Charley never did pay attention in the past. She simply waited for Sandra to do it for her, never bothering to even look at the report totals.

As Heather anxiously waited beside the desk for her tips, Charley kept Heather's ticket totals out of view from her. She already knew what it said. It left Heather with over four hundred dollars. Stalling, Charley tried to think of way to keep a couple of those hundreds for her own. She knew Heather would never notice the difference, as she had never gone home with that much money in the past. The more Heather grew impatient, the more pressure Charley felt to figure out how to steal the money and fast. After a tense few minutes, she realized she would just have to pass it up and cash Heather out with the true ticket totals.

"Okay okay! Jesus, I have it right here!" Charley said angrily. "You owe me $2768.93. That leaves you with this."

Charley handed over the cash. Heather quickly counted her tips. With the bills in her hand, she leaned over Charley's shoulder, trying to get a look at the report ticket.

"What are you doing? Quit hovering over me!" Charley barked as she spun in her chair, pulling the report away from view.

"I just want to see if this is right," Heather replied. "You gave me over four hundred dollars. This is the best night since I started here!"

Heather smiled bouncing on her toes as she fanned the money to Charley.

"Good for you," Charley snapped. "Now get out, I have a lot more to do here than just cash you out Heather."

Charley's tanned cheeks were flushed red with anger over the huge tip out.

"This sucks. That bitch is walking home with four hundred bucks, plus her bonus. I'm on a God Damn salary. I deserve that money, I am running this place, not Heather," Charley thought to herself as Heather disappeared, bouncing out the door.

Slamming the safe shut, Charley locked the cash inside. She watched the same thing happen as the other servers cashed out. Each time, the servers were shocked, in awe of their massive sales and tip outs. With each passing ecstatic server, Charley became madder and madder, not to mention, meaner and meaner.

Tonight, there was no time tonight to figure out how to short the servers on the massive tips. Nonetheless, she was determined to find a way for the future, if it should happen again. Charley copied the entire shift report and stuffed it in her purse. She would study it further after work. If there were a way to accomplish her skim, she would strive to find it later. As she drove home in her red Lexus, she was consumed with the daunting task ahead of her.

"There has to be a way to understand this mumbo jumbo gibberish report. I am not working my ass off, breaking seventy dollar nails for six hundred a week while these bitches walk out of here with that in two nights."

Speeding down Columbia Parkway, Charley's phone lit up in the seat with a call. It was George.

"Hello!" she answered with her brightest politeness.

"Hello my little kitten. I missed catching you before you left. Do you want to grab a late night snack, or a drink with me?" he asked invitingly.

"Um... I don't care about the food or the drinks but if you want me to come over..."

Knowing he would get the point; she waited anxiously to hear his response.

"You know what... I don't care about the food or the drinks either. Why don't you come to my apartment? We can have a drink here, just you and I..." George said.

As he was speaking, she was already whipping off onto a side road to turn around.

"Sure! Were do you live?" she asked, curious what he would say next.

"I am in The Ascent, in Roebling Point. Do you know that building? You take..."

She interrupted. "Yeah, The Ascent. I know it, everyone knows it."

George laughed. "Park with the valet, he will show you up to my apartment. I am looking forward to seeing you. You are sure you know where it is?" George asked again, baiting her.

"Of course I know where it is. I can be there in, like five minutes. See you in a few."

Thrilled with his invitation, Charley beamed with satisfaction.

"The Ascent... Oh my God. I can just see myself living in The Ascent. Fucking George Clooney has an apartment there. Can you imagine? 'Oh, hello Mr. Clooney, will you hold that elevator please?' Oh, My, God, that would be so awesome," she said to herself as she gleefully sped back towards the city.

Pushing past the speed limit, her arms goose bumped with the prospect of staying the night with George, at The Ascent. Pulling near the building she paused, parking on the side of the street. Shimmying in her seat, she slid her panties off under her skirt then pulled off her bra from under her blouse. Clicking on the mirror light, carefully re-lining her lips with a sharp red pencil, she pursed her lips in a kiss. Touching up her mascara and fingering her hair into style, she shot a spritz of body spray between her thighs and breasts. Pulling back onto the road, she turned into the valet rope lined drive.

"Good evening mam," the black suited valet said as he opened her door.

"I am here to see George Achmed, he's expecting me," Charley said smugly as she shouldered her purse.

"Yes mam. I will take your keys and show you to the door."

Stepping inside the lobby, she was buzzing with excitement. This was the single most expensive apartment building on the riverfront. The peak of wealth lived in this building, and tonight she was in it too.

Once inside the elevator, straightening her clothes, she shot a quick dash of breath spray on her tongue as she thought about how she was going to make this night a night George would never forget.

Walking into the apartment, Charley felt nearly dizzy with lust over the luxurious space. The room was dark, illuminated by soft candlelight. Taking her purse, George walked her into the living room. Inviting her to relax on a magnificent linen sofa, he walked to the kitchen bar.

"Would you care for that drink now my kitten?" he asked.

"Sure, I guess you could say I'm in the mood," she replied.

Watching her from the dark wood bar, he poured a glass of white wine. After handing it to her on the couch, he stepped through two massive patio doors.

"Would you care to come out here with me and see the view?" he asked, facing away from her, looking at the city lights.

"I don't know about that George. I think you may prefer the view in here."

Puzzled at her response, he turned. Stepping back into the soft warm light of the living room he saw her. Sipping her wine, one bare foot rubbing the carpet with her toes, and one leg perched, resting on the sofa. With her skirt pulled waist high, he saw her smooth bare womanhood peeking out between her tanned thighs. Sipping her drink, Charley smiled, twisting a curl in a long tangle of her hair with a grin on her face.

"I think you are right dear. I do prefer the view in here now that you mention it."

Staring at her intensely, he walked over to the sofa. Squatting down, he kissed her lips lightly. Her naked breast slid out past her unbuttoned top. Slowly, he began rubbing her leg, kissing her calf, then her thigh. She ran her fingers though his hair as his head went down between her scented thighs.

Pulling both feet up on the sofa, sliding forward, she pushed her bare womanhood towards his lips. She could feel the heat of his breath as his lips came closer to her flesh. Closing her eyes, she parted her legs wider as he caressed her with his tongue.

Shaking with excitement, she thought to herself. "This is where I belong. Tonight, I will make this man want me more than any woman he has ever wanted. I will exhaust him with the most intense sex he has ever experienced. In the morning, he will wake with my lips around him, coaxing him into doing it all over again. Tonight, George Achmed, you are going to come very close to heaven. Tomorrow, you will treat me like an angel and I will reward you again. You will learn George Achmed, you will learn I am just what you need."

Pushing his tongue into her, then his fingers, she felt her insides begin to tingle. Closing her eyes, opening her legs wider with his every push, she licked her lips in slow anticipation of his next move.

Swooping her off the sofa with both arms, George carried his sultry prize to his bed. In the luxury of the expensively appointed bedroom, Charley found herself exactly where she always wanted to be. In the bed of a man who could afford to not only impress her, but afford her the ability to impress others, as she had always wanted. Finally she was with the man she would do anything to keep for her own.

Pushing her legs back, George looked at her in the dim light, admiring her naked form briefly before sliding between her smooth thighs. In one swift motion, he pushed his manhood deep inside her. Gasping from his sudden thrust, she whispered in his ear, pulling her nails slowly across his back.

Tonight she held nothing back. She would make certain that George felt she was worth any price. Tonight, she would be worth every future penny he would have to spend to keep her. There would be no time to study reports. This was her chance to shine with unbridled passion and lust. This was what she had been waiting for all her life. The moment she had slaved so hard working out for. This was her reward for dedicating all her time and money pushing her beauty to it's highest and best for all these years.

Thousands of dollars and tens of thousands of hours had been spent on her body in the pursuit of a night like this. Rocking under George's thrusts, she felt it had all finally paid off at long last.
Chapter 5

Just a few blocks away from Charley's orgasmic adventure twenty-two stories above the city, the sounds of the Rolling Stones were bleeding from the dusty juke box as The Pub crowd danced.

Sitting at the bar, Rob sipped a drink, half watching Miguel dance up close to a scantily clad server from a Newport Levy Italian restaurant. Sipping his beer slowly, his heart wasn't in the scene at all. The crowd danced and drank, yelling and singing out loud all around him. The busier it got, the lonelier he felt. His mind was dragging him into a sea of sorrow. "Where the hell was Ellen? What could she be doing right now? Was she safe? What dangers lay ahead of her?" His mind was locked in a torrent of torture thinking about her fate.

Armando and Micah raced through shots of Jagermeister at the other end of the bar. The bonuses George had gifted the crew was fueling The Pub's register at a record pace. Everyone was drinking heavily, more so than usual. Buying drinks for friends, they passed out trays of shots across the crowd.

Even the servers and cooks from other restaurants were reaping the benefits as The Ship's crew bought round after round for their service industry friends. Martinez drained bottles with both hands, the bar top was littered with empty shot glasses. Carafes of big bright colored liquor drinks were quickly sucked down through straws faster than he could keep up with.

Watching the joyous mayhem, Rob wished he were in better spirits. This was a great night to be here in this pub. But sadly, for Rob, it was pure loneliness. He was out of place, with nowhere else to go.

The sweet sticky aroma of high-grade marijuana hung in the air across The Pub. Armando held out a thick blue blunt in front of Micah. Micah looked at it as he tipped a shot, smiling with a nod. As the two got up off their bar stools to go outside, they saw Rob. Micah waved him over but Rob stayed in his stool, shaking his head "No".

The two waved to him, yelling over at him across the loud crowd.

"C'mon Rob! C'mon!"

Smiling, Rob kept nodding "no" again and again. He watched as the two began to push and worm their way back to his seat. Seeing their determination, he felt bad he didn't take them up on their offer. Distraught over Ellen, he hadn't kept up the usual conversation or camaraderie with his crew the last few days. Seeing they were getting no closer, but trying hard nonetheless, Rob stood up with his drink, making his way over to them. Seeing him coming their way through the crowd, Micah and Armando looked at each other with a cheer.

Stepping out into the back door alley, the three took places against the brick wall.

"You are going to love this shit. This stuff right here..." Armando said, holding out the blunt as he teased it with a lighter. "This shit will set you free man. It's super-kush from my amigo in Afghanistan. It's a mind blower of a buzz."

Pulling the blunt up to his mouth, he puffed it to life. Watching with a smile, Rob asked about the unusual foreign contents.

"Afghanistan huh? Why the hell do you get weed from Afghanistan? Isn't there any weed left around here, or have you guys already smoked it all?" Rob asked with a laugh.

Laughing with him, Micah took the blunt. Armando choked when his laugh mixed with a cough, catching him off guard while holding in a deep breath.

"Ah man, you made me lose it!" Armando replied. "Sure there is weed around here, crap dirt weed and over-priced wet hydro from some amateur home grower's basement. My amigo's brother is in the Army, he sends this shit back once a month. Not a lot right, just enough to run under the radar, for a few friends. It's the hardest hitting shit I have ever smoked. It will stone you to the bone amigo. Nothing around here even comes close. It's going to suck if they send him home, we will get no more of this then."

Armando looked sad as he finished his explanation. Micah handed the blunt off to Rob. He took a small toke, holding it out in his hand, dissecting the aroma and studying it curiously.

"You can't take nanny tokes man. Hit that shit!" Micah said teasingly. "This is a rare treat, you may never see weed this good in your hands again. Hit that Rob, go on and get a good one."

Laughing, Rob blew out the smoke. "You guys crack me up. You ought to move to Michigan and open a weed store," he replied as he pulled the blunt back to his lips, drawing on it harder, inhaling deeply this time. Holding it in, he passed it back to Army.

"There you go Chef. That's how we do it!" Armando replied smiling.

Watching as Rob held his breath, the two took turns huffing off the blunt until their eyes glazed. Blowing out the smoke. Rob took another deep hit.

"Damn you weren't kidding, that's it for me. I'm past good," Rob said.

Micah laughed. "You bet you're good, wait about fifteen minutes and see how good you are then. You won't even be able to talk right."

Micah and Armando high fived each other, doubled over laughing.

Rob laughed at the sight of them.

"Thanks guys, come back inside in a bit, I'll get you two a drink."

Walking back into The Pub, he turned to see them offering the blunt to a pretty cocktail server from a nearby waterfront bar.

Rob's mouth and throat were instantly dry. His empty beer offered no relief. Waving the empty bottle, Martinez looked in Rob's direction and another cold one quickly replaced the empty. Taking a big swallow, Rob watched the crowd as they danced. Miguel was still dancing with the same server, his hands cupping her butt, her leg in-between his as they slow danced to the music.

Smiling to himself, Rob thought about what was in store for the unsuspecting server. He knew, with any luck, Miguel would drag this girl home tonight for a late night romp in the sack. Rob didn't share the same feelings for the need for casual sex anymore. Somehow, since Ellen's disappearance, his thoughts about casual sex had vacated him totally.

Drinking his beer down to the last inch in one drink, Rob sat the nearly empty bottle on the bar. Martinez looked over, waving another beer in his hand with questioning eyes. Rob stood up, shaking his head as he tossed a few crumpled bills on the bar.

Deciding this wasn't the place he needed to be now, he headed out. A walk through the streets to clear his mind in the cool night air sounded better than the beer. His thoughts were still smothered with images of Ellen. Repeating the note she left for him filled his mind with regret. He was desperate to find some kind of peace.
Chapter 6

Spending his sleepy Sunday alone in his apartment, Rob woke to a deep dread over Ellen's mysterious disappearance. Wasting the entire day and night sitting alone, he had become lost in a frantic mix of anger and depression. Just before he finally fell asleep, he decided on Monday he would demand that George hold true to his promise and give him something of where Ellen had gone. He needed to find out if George was actually working on finding her, or if he was just using Rob's emotions as bait to entice him to work.

Monday morning couldn't have come soon enough. Anxiously arriving at work early, Rob prepared to get the kitchen open, constantly peeking out of the swinging doors looking for George. Today he would put that shady bastard to the test.

"Could he really find her? Where would he even start?" Rob wondered with great anticipation as he worked alone prepping a new menu item.

Charley walked in with her usual belittling attitude. Seeing Heather, looking radically refreshed with a new hairstyle, Charley didn't acknowledge her smile or comment on her new look.

"Heather, make sure the patio tables are in order, there was a hard wind coming through here all night. Then go help the other servers, check their tables and make sure everything is ready."

Heather agreed and smiled again but received no smile in return. Disappointed with the lack of acknowledgement from Charley, she began her chores without another word between them.

Walking into the office, Charley had her mind set on studying the daily reports, she still had never totally understood them and wanted to make sure a repeat of Saturday wouldn't happen again. Ignoring Rob, she walked through the kitchen to the office, locking the door behind her. Studying the report, line by line, she took notes as she compared the numbers.

"Why the hell are these reports so high? It was a great night, but not that great, was it?"

As she studied the sales closer, Charley was certain the Ship could not have sold that many items. She found a Month to Date tab, and a Year to Date tab. Comparing them to the past Saturday, she realized the totals were off the charts. Looking at the ticket times she felt a sudden skip in her heartbeat. Over $5,000 had been rang in before they had even opened, all from the bar terminal. Even more unusual, it was all in cash. Intrigued, she scanned the impossible numbers.

"How the hell? What is going on here? Oh god what did I do wrong? I messed this all up and now..."

Panic began to sink in, thinking she had made some grave error in her first attempt at reconciling the reports as the new manager. Confused, but certain something was wrong; she inserted a flash drive into the computer, copying the reports. She would have to take the time later at home to understand the mystery.

Back in the kitchen, Rob was ready for service, anxiously waiting for George to arrive. No sooner had he thought about exactly what he was going to say, George appeared through the swinging doors. Waving briefly at Rob, he went into the office, locking the door as it shut. Rob rushed to the door, just missing it as it clicked closed in front of him.

He knocked. "George... George!"

There was no reply. He knocked again.

"George. I need to talk to you, will you open the door?"

George called back. "Give me a minute Rob, I have an important phone call to make. I will be with you in a minute."

Walking back to his line, Rob was aggravated at George's refusal to open the door. Polishing the counters aimlessly, he waited. Stirring the sauces in the big simmering pots, tasting them redundantly as if looking for some tweak or touch of spice he had missed, he waited still.

Miguel would be here soon, along with the rest of the crew. They would be pleasantly surprised that their work was already done. Rob had come in earlier than usual. The anticipation of demanding George give him news of Ellen's whereabouts had driven him to rise early. In his wait he had worked each station's pre-opening duties one after the other, all by himself in an effort to make up for his absence.

Pacing with anticipation, Rob knocked on the door again.

"Come on in Rob," George said as he unlocked the handle. "What can I do for you this fine morning?"

Rob shut the door behind him.

"George, we made a deal that you would tell me where Ellen went to. Well, now I have to know what has happened to her. I can't even concentrate on the damn line. Ellen is consuming my thoughts to no end."

Spinning in his chair, George picked up his phone. Swiping a text, he leaned back as he read.

"Ellen left Paris and by this time tomorrow, she will land in Vietnam."

Rob looked shocked.

"Vietnam? You expect me to believe that? Viet-fucking-Nam! You expect me to believe Ellen just packed up with next to nothing, flew halfway around the world by herself and is now on her way to Vietnam? God damn you George! You lying asshole!"

Storming out of the office, he slammed the door as he left. Pacing the kitchen cursing, Rob slammed a pan against the wall in anger. Still cursing, he ran back to George's office.

"I swear to God George if you are lying..."

George sat with a calm face.

"Rob, have I ever lied to you? Your Ellen left here, flew to New York, landed in Paris, and stayed her layover in the Sheraton. Now, she has left Paris and is inflight to Vietnam as we speak. She arrives at her ticket's destination tomorrow. I assure you this information is correct. She isn't covering her tracks. It wasn't very difficult to discover where she is."

Holding out the phone for Rob to see, George looked at him calmly. There, in a short series of text messages, the exact accounts of Ellen's path were listed in a row of cryptic messages.

'Addison left CVG landing at JFK today.'

'Leaving JFK for CDG.'

'Arrived at CDG, Addison checked into Sheraton.'

'Leaving CDG for SGN tomorrow. No reservations further.'

George watched as Rob read the texts for himself.

"I have no reason to lie to you Rob. I am a man of my word. I told you I would find her and I have. Now, I am waiting to see where she goes next. Her flight's reservations end in Ho Chi Minh. From there... Who knows how or where she will travel next. I must admit, her final destination is a mystery. I was going to tell you when I had it finalized, but since you insist..."

Looking at George in wonder, Rob sat down on the stained sofa.

"What the fuck!" he yelled out. "Why the hell would she go there?"

George tucked the phone is his pocket. Leaning back, crossing his legs, he shrugged.

"Why indeed? Vietnam is a dangerous place. Few venture there without good reason. A young Caucasian American woman, alone in that God forsaken communist country... It's a mystery to even I. I must admit, I fear for her safety after she lands there."

Looking up with scared eyes, Rob scowled at him.

"Fear for her safety? Of course I fear for her safety! She's in God Damn Vietnam!"

Rob jumped up, pacing the room.

"Her dad was in Vietnam, in the war. She was wrecked when he died. She talked to him at the hospital. I didn't hear what they talked about. This must have something to do with him. He meant the world to her. She left me a note saying she was going to find her sister. Could she have a sister in Vietnam? This must be that she does, what else could it be?"

Rising up off the chair, George patted Rob hard on the back.

"At this moment I do not know. But I will discover the answers the moment they unfold. You will be the first to know. I have given you all true information. I have not lied. Her flight lands tomorrow. We will discover her intentions soon. "

Turning, Rob looked at George with pleading eyes.

"Thank you George, this is not what I expected to hear. But I do believe you, and I am grateful I have you helping me. I would have never figured out where she was without your help."

Smiling, George patted Rob again.

"She is a real wild card, this Ellen of yours. I can't say if I were in her place, I could be so brave. Then again, who knows what is motivating her actions. It is something powerful for certain. But it will all be known to us in time, just have patience Rob. Be patient, and focus on your work."

Sitting back down, Rob held his head in his hands, confused and concerned as George exited the office without another word. George had come through on the Deal. He knew where Ellen was now, but it brought him no relief as he expected. In fact, it caused him even greater worry.

Walking back to the line, Rob noticed Miguel walk in through the back door.

"Amigo! You-a looking worried! Have-a no fear, Miguel ees here!" Miguel said with outstretched arms.

Laughing, he patted Rob on the shoulder. "What's up my man?" Miguel asked with a more serious tone.

"I'm not sure," Rob replied back without eye contact. "Ellen is in danger. Real danger and I am very worried."

Miguel looked puzzled. "Ellen? How could Ellen be in such troubles? She's a good girl, you know?"

Looking up at him with worried eyes, Rob nodded.

"Yes she is Miguel, yes she is a great person, the best. And now she's all alone, with no money and no one to care about her or help her."

Miguel laughed as he changed into his white jacket.

"Nope, not true amigo. She has you. Maybe she doesn't know eet, but I do."

Thinking about Miguel's words, Rob realized he was right. Ellen did have Rob. But what could he do? Thinking it over, he remembered he still had his passport, from his days in New York. His crew there would take romps to Canada. Rob had got it because it was easier than getting a driver's license. Pondering the notion, he realized he had over two thousand dollars in the bank. A trip like this would wipe it out, but tomorrow was payday. The direct deposit would hit and fuel the empty account. George promised a bigger salary, a 50% increase in fact.

"I could go to her. I could find her and help her..." he realized with sudden exhilaration.

"She will finally see how much she means to me! I can explain about Charley, she will understand. She has to understand."

Miguel looked puzzled.

"Charley, our Charley? The snotty manager? What do you mean?"

Rob shrugged, "It's a long story. But you are right my amigo, she does have me."

This was the revelation he needed. The single most important gesture he could do to make Ellen understand just what she meant to him. Grabbing Miguel by the shoulders, Rob shook him hard.

"You're right my wonderful Mexican friend! You are exactly fucking right! She does have me."

Running to the office, Rob scribbled a note on the desk. Racing out to the kitchen, he stopped at Miguel with wide eyes.

"Miguel, can you hold down this place until Thursday? Just until Thursday night?" Rob asked.

"Sí sí. Me, Micah, Army, we can do weekdays. Eets the weekends that scare me."

Rob hugged him with a huge smile.

"Thanks man, I know you can run this line my friend. I will be back for Friday's service, I promise, and I will make it up to you when I come back... With Ellen."

Hugging Miguel with a slap on his back, Rob bolted out the back door. Miguel could hear Rob as the door slowly closed.

"Don't worry. I will be back Friday Amigo."

Walking in, whispering to one another, George and Charley pushed through the swinging kitchen doors just as Rob disappeared. They went directly into the office. Just as quickly as the office door shut, George came back out with Rob's note in his hand.

"Miguel, Where is Chef Rob?"

Wiping his hands on a towel, Miguel pointed to the back door. "He left, he say he will be back by Friday, with Miss Ellen."

Standing still in surprise, George's face turned angry.

"Rob left... as in, left The Ship? And will not be coming back for dinner service?"

Miguel nodded. "Si. He says he's going to find Miss Ellen."

George clenched hard fists as he lowered his tone.

"You're telling me our Chef, Chef Rob, walked out of this kitchen, just a few minutes ago to go find Ellen?"

Miguel stopped dead still, staring at George's furious eyes.

"Sí sí, don't worry. He says he will be back by Friday. Just take eet easy. We can cook the food you know. We cook eet everyday. You just need to relax."

George was not about to relax. He had guests coming. Important guests he needed to impress with Rob and his food. These weren't just any guests. They were a crucial part of his secret plan. The entire reason for making the Deal with Rob, was embedded in these very guests.

Running down the gangplank, George sprinted as fast as his G J Cleverley shoes could manage on the steel grating. Sliding to a stop, grabbing the rail, he stared at the parking lot. There was no sign of Rob.

"I will find him, and bring his ass right back here! If I have to drag him myself!"

Calling Rob's phone, he received no answer.

"Damn him!" George yelled as he dialed the local cab company.

He questioned the dispatcher. Then threatened him. Then offered him $200 to tell him where Rob had been dropped off. But it was to no avail. Rob was gone and George was too late to stop him... Unless, he could catch him before Rob left the airport. The one edge George had on his side, was that he knew exactly where Rob was headed... Vietnam.

Throwing clothes around the room, Rob quickly stuffed what he thought he could get by with into a backpack. Rummaging through his drawers he found his passport. Stuffing the backpack to the brim, he glanced around the apartment.

"I guess this is all I need. No time to waste now."

Leaving in a rush, he headed on foot to his bank. Inside, he slowly inched up the line. Feeling nervous standing in the bank with a stuffed backpack, he felt the tension growing inside him. Finally facing the teller, handing her his bankcard, he questioned her.

"How much is in my account?"

Looking at the screen, her fingers clicked the keyboard. "Two thousand four hundred fifty dollars and forty nine cents," she replied matter-of-factly.

With a fast nod, Rob asked for a withdrawal. "I need to cash that out please."

Looking up concerned, she frowned.

"Are you closing the account?" she asked.

"No," he replied. "I will have a direct deposit today, or tomorrow. Just leave the sixty five cents in there."

She filled out the withdrawal slip and quickly counted out the bills.

"There you go sir. And is there anything else we can do for you?"

Smiling, Rob waved to her as he left. "Nope. This will have to do."

Carl waited outside at the curb.

"To the airport Carl... And make it fast!" Rob said as they sped off.

Driving to the airport, Rob told him the tale of the past couple days. He explained how he knew where Ellen was, but still had no idea why she was there.

"I really hope you make out good kid," Carl said looking in the mirror. "That's all news to me. I've known the Addison family for decades, I know of no other sister."

Rob nodded in silence. Carl looked back again.

"I hope you can find her in that mess over there. That's a really rough place. No place for a girl like Ellen to be alone in. What do you think got into her?"

Rob sighed. "I have no idea, but I am going to find out."

Nodding in approval, Carl glanced back in the mirror again.

"You know what Rob? I have a friend at the airport. He always offers me airfares for cheap, employee stand-by or something like that. Let me call him and see what I can do."

Thanking him, Rob leaned back in the seat. He felt fraying nerves creeping into his mind. With jittering fingers, he pulled at the strap on his bag.

"This is going to be a hell of a ride, I just know it," he said to himself.

Talking on his cell phone for a few minutes, Carl shot Rob a smile as he turned his cab into the terminal.

"You're in luck. I think I have you a deal," Carl said. "My buddy says the best way to get you on your way today is via Chicago, then Tokyo. From there it's straight to Nam'. He says there is an employee shuttle to Chi' town leaving in fifteen minutes, we can just make it. That will save you some time and money. He says to meet him at the Trans Air Airline ticket counter in fifteen minutes. His name is Ben. He's a good guy. Just meet him there and he will help you out with the tickets."

As the cab stopped with a screech, Rob dashed out to the sidewalk. Stepping alongside him, Carl stood smiling at his side. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, Rob gave Carl a one armed hug.

"Thanks Carl. You've been such a great friend to Ellen, and now to me too."

Carl patted Rob. "Been a friend? Buddy you aren't leaving us for good are you? I am still a friend, and I will still be one when you get back. You bring that girl home safely now."

Rob smiled and thanked Carl one last time before jogged into the terminal.

Stepping fast to the Trans Air ticket counter, Rob looked at the man behind the computer.

"Are you Ben?" Rob asked, out of breath.

"Yep, I'm Ben. You must be Carl's friend Rob. Good to meet ya'. Heading to Vietnam are you?"

Rob nodded. "I am going to help a friend. She's all alone there."

Typing Rob's info into the computer, Ben explained the flight plan.

"I can put you on a Trans Air employee shuttle to Chicago. You'll have to walk down to the tarmac to board. Take this employee pass. When you get to Chicago, you take your ticket to the Trans Air counter. After that, it's thirteen hours to Tokyo. Then it's around seven hours to Ho Chi Minh City, formerly known as Saigon. Basically, this time tomorrow you will be in Vietnam."

Taking the ticket, Rob thanked him again. The total cost was just over fourteen hundred dollars. Carl's connection had allowed Rob to buy the tickets for a serious discount. But it still left him short for the trip home. It was an expensive risk, but worth every cent to Rob.

Jogging down the corridor to the employee entrance to the tarmac, Rob saw that the small prop plane shuttle had to be boarded from the ground, unlike the big jets that boarded from the terminal. Rob was stepping onto the shuttle just as George's man was just walking into the airport. George dialed the contact on his phone marked "Unknown Caller".

"Did you find him yet?" George asked immediately.

Looking around as he answered, the man replied. "Nothing yet. I checked his apartment; I just arrived at the airport. I can tell you for certain, he couldn't have left on a flight this fast. There are only two commercial flights that could take him internationally today. He has to take one of them to get to Vietnam. When he comes into either terminal, I will see him."

Flushed with impatience, George yelled at the man on the other end of the phone.

"You had better find him! Do not let him leave that airport. If he does, you go after him. I need him back here by Friday morning at the very latest."

The man didn't change his tone whatsoever.

"If he is headed here as you say, I am sure I beat him. As I said, there are no flights connecting internationally besides the two, and they don't leave for hours. Even if he already arrived, he would still be waiting. I have looked at every face in those terminals. He's not here yet. Just relax. When I find him, I will call."

George wasn't about to relax. He spoke to the Unknown Caller again, in more of a whisper this time.

"If he leaves this city, you must follow. He must be delivered back here by Friday, no exceptions."

Without a goodbye, George hit 'end' on his phone as he stared out at the river. For the second time in days, Rob had sent him into a rage of anger, and there was nothing he could do about it. This was not something George was used to, nor able to deal with calmly. His anger grew the more he thought about Rob's sudden sprint from The Ship. Rob had broken the Deal. He wanted to stop him badly, and bring him back to The Ship immediately. Yet at this moment he was powerless to do either. Being powerless was something George Achmed refused to accept. Today, against all his will and his very best efforts, he was forced to do nothing but wait, helplessly.

Watching the sunlight dancing across the river, George had no idea Rob's employee plane was buzzing overhead in the hazy Ohio skyline. Anxiously waiting for the call from his man at the airport, George paced, lighting a cigar. High above his head, Rob's twin prop shuttle roared through the air with a deafening tone.

Listening as the employees chatted in conversations, Rob watched the pilots interestingly work the controls less than twenty feet in front him. Trying to relax in his seat, he felt a nervous tingling.

"This is it. This time tomorrow and I will be able to see Ellen again. If I can even find her when I get there."

He knew it would be difficult, maybe even impossible. But he felt his heart would guide him well. That and his big city instincts. His sharpened street smarts, honed on the rough asphalt alleys of New York would help guide him to her.

Calling her phone again, he was answered by an "out of service" recording.

She would go to a good hotel for certain. "Something that looked American friendly, something familiar," he thought as he hung up. His thoughts and imagination continued to convince him he could do this thing. But the nervousness grew with every mile, and he had thousands of miles yet to go.
Chapter 7

It was a beautiful star lit sky in Paris. Ellen was still sleeping under her detergent scented sheets. Deep in a dream, she was struggling to free herself from an unseen black monster. It was chasing her through a thick jungle, mere inches behind her as she ran for her life. Struggling desperately through trees and vines, her heart raced, her pulse surged rapidly. Her eyes twitched under her eyelids as she shook, kicking her legs in her sleep.

The dream had begun as a peaceful walk in a forest, inexplicably drawn towards a blinding white light. The light was oddly out of place. An overwhelming curiosity was calling her to it. Just as she approached it, she heard a thrashing in the leaves behind her. Catching glimpses of a dark shape as it charged her way, she began to run through the trees. No matter how fast or past what obstacle she put between them, the unseen monster stayed close on her heels. Just far enough back for her to take another step, but just close enough for her to hear it's loud grunt and rough grumble.

The scene went on like that for hours. Her terrorizing dream was working her into a sweat under the covers. She had hoped to get a peaceful sleep before the final leg of her long fight but this terrible dream was stripping her of that wish.

The dream raged on. She was running terrified as the monster grew nearer. Jumping across a creek, she tripped over a rock, falling helpless to the jungle floor. Just as the monster was about to appear out of the bush, she came awake fast in a sweat. Her turbulent dream had fueled a fear inside her.

In the sink, she ran cold water over her face and neck. Coming to her senses, she realized she was far from home yet still over 12 hours away from her destination. The fear from the dream had rocked her emotions. She longed to hear a familiar, comforting voice.

Calling the hotel desk again she asked to put the call on her room charges.

"I really need to call the US... No, I don't have a credit card. I do have cash. You do take cash don't you? Please, put the charges on my room tab and I will pay you in full today when I check out."

The desk clerk put the call through to Rob's phone but received only an "out of service" message.

"Are you sure you have the correct number?" the desk clerk asked.

"Yes! I have it... I think it's right... Well, maybe..."

Feeling panic set in, Ellen doubted her memory. Maybe that wasn't the right number? She wondered as she checked her call log. Looking at the time, Ellen had an idea.

"Call 513-555-8800. The Good Ship Cincinnati, it's a business."

The phone rang. The desk clerk talked over the ringing.

"I have you connected, charges will apply upon answer. Thank you and enjoy your stay at the Sheraton Paris."

Holding her breath, Ellen waited anxiously as the phone rang.

"Good Ship Cincinnati, this is Charley. How can I help you?"

Ellen was far from happy to hear Charley's smug voice.

"Charley, this is Ellen. Can I please speak to Rob?"

Charley was nearly as angry as George at Rob's race from The Ship. George was in a foul mood over it and he was taking it out on everyone, especially Charley.

"No Ellen he is not here. He fucking walked out earlier. George and I are both super pissed about it."

Ellen was speechless.

"George? Who is George? And where is Rob?" she asked.

Charley quickly dismissed her.

"I don't have time to talk to you about it now. I have a restaurant to run at the moment."

Ellen couldn't understand.

"You have a restaurant to run? Where is Sandra? Can I leave a message for Rob please?" she asked, nearly pleading.

"No. I don't have time for you today. We are too busy for personal problems, I have problems here of my own," Charley snapped back.

Ellen felt desperation set in. She was about to ask if she had Rob's number correct when she heard the phone click off in silence.

Even though the call only lasted less a minute, the cryptic information Charley gave had Ellen even more worried and confused. "Where was Sandra? Why did Rob walk off The Ship? And who is George?" It seemed Ellen's entire world, the one she left behind, had changed overnight.

Regardless of the questions, there was only one important question she cared to resolve, Where was Rob Anderson? She had no idea, no way to contact him and no hope of doing so. If he walked out in the middle of service, he would likely be fired. If so, she may never figure out where he had went next. In her state of panic and confusion, she felt certain he was lost to her for certain, possibly for good.

The notion of leaving the way she did, with no conversation with Rob, suddenly sank in. She nearly began to cry over the thought that her irrational actions had altered her path with him forever. She wasn't even concerned with Rob's explanation of why Charley was at his house anymore. Now she was concerned about never even seeing Rob again.

"What if he moves out of town to get another job? Then I will never find him." Ellen paced the room in panic. Throwing herself on the bed she sobbed into the pillow. "What have I done, oh God what have I done? I ran him away with my stupid craziness. He would have never even been with her if I had just acted normal that morning..."

Gathering her things, she walked down to the lobby to check out. Walking to the terminal, she dreaded the twelve-hour flight to Vietnam. After hearing about Rob, she wasn't ready to head anywhere but home. As much as she wanted to go back, she knew she had no options but to go forward. Too much had been sacrificed for her to turn back now. She would find her sister Maria, and hopefully bring her home. It would fulfill her father's dying wish. Perhaps it would even fill the void in her soul.

She felt the void grow larger and wider with every tragedy and bad news she had been faced with over the last few days. Walking in the huge airport hallway, the void swelled into a black hole consuming her thoughts.

As her plane lifted off the ground, there was no excitement this time. No giddy nerves of anticipation as before. There was only regret and dread and loss. The news of Rob had shaken her badly. For the second time in a mere few days, Ellen felt truly alone. It was deeply saddening to her. She shuffled in her seat on the plane. Sitting back, she watched as a young Asian child toyed with an iPod, peeking over the seat back in front of her.

Glancing into the eyes of the passengers, she found each one filled with happiness, curiosity or contentment. She feared it would be a long time, if ever, that she would feel those feelings again.

As the big jet blasted off into the clouds, she watched Paris disappear. The amazing city below her faded away under the haze. The lights of the city glistened like amber diamonds. Slowly they became hidden under misty clouds. As the city faded out of view, Ellen realized she didn't see a single sight while in Paris. She couldn't have ever cared less.
Chapter 8

Twelve uncomfortable hours later, Ellen's plane hovered over the Vietnamese airport in big slow circles. She managed to sleep through most of the flight, waking only for a stale frozen turkey meal and a semi-pleasing dessert of vanilla ice cream and chocolate cake. She looked curiously out the window at the strange city below. It looked different than the other cities she had seen from above.

The city center was a sprawling cluster of short buildings, not a single skyscraper to be seen. The outskirts mish mashed into a dotted multi-colored collage of disorder. The jagged edges quickly faded into a deep sea of green squares, fingers of an ancient river snaking through them. The downtown looked tiny by comparison. Almost as if the entire city was nothing but a large unordered suburb, sitting alone in the jungle.

After an abrupt touchdown, the passengers departed through the gates. Ellen followed the crowd. Walking out onto the streets of Saigon, the scorched air smacked her hard in the face. Instantly, she felt sweat rising up through her clothes.

Aon the sidewalk, a calliope of sounds shot into her ears. Honking horns and squealing tires sang out loud squeals from all sides. Motorbike scooters whizzed by in a blur, swerving around any obstacle, narrowly missing people and cars by mere inches. Strange faces franticly yelled out to her as she slowly stepped deeper.

"My lady! My Lady! You want-a boom boom? You want-a what I got! You come-a dis way, dis way! We turn you on strong!" they cried out, waving and pointing to her.

Amazed by the maddening scene surrounding her on all sides, Ellen stopped still with eyes wide, in awe of the mass chaos and confusion of the city. It was something she had never imagined. Tiny three wheeled cars and whizzing scooters drove headlong against one another on both sides of the road, dashing between spaces just wide enough to allow them to pass without a crash. The sidewalks were littered with parked scooters, so closely jammed together it left no room to walk. She tried to move, but found there was nowhere to even step.

Suddenly a scooter passed so close it nearly knocked her down. The rider grabbed Ellen's duffle with an outstretched hand as he passed. She locked onto the strap and pulled hard, causing the tiny bike to swerve, almost hitting a wooden cart loaded with oddly shaped green melons. Gripping the straining strap with tight fists, Ellen held on strong, the rider letting go only just as he was about to crash the screaming scooter.

The out of control scooter wobbled towards an oncoming car. Ellen shut her eyes tight, awaiting the sound of a deadly crash. The rider reared it upright with a yank, just missing the speeding car at the last possible second. With a deft lean of his body, he vanished into the traffic with a zing, leaving no trace except a smoky trail. Ellen caught her breath, she knew immediately she would need to seek fast shelter from the maniacal mess of a world these crazed reckless people called home.

Spotting a marked taxi on the corner, Ellen made a mad dash for the tiny car, dodging for her life through the swarming sea of buzzing scooters and people. Closing the door, she felt the air conditioning hit her hard, so cold it made her sweat soaked clothes instantly stick to her skin. "Hotel," was all she could think to say.

"Would he even know what I am saying?" she wondered as the bearded bald man stared at her in the mirror.

"Okay! "One hundred forty thousand dong! You pay now or you get out!"

Ellen had no idea what he meant, but she sure as hell wasn't about to get out.

"One hundred forty thousand what?" she asked.

Leaning up to his seat, she fished a crisp one hundred dollar bill from her pocket.

Snatching the bill with fast fingers the driver smiled wide.

"Okay! Okay! We go now! You like fine hotel?"

She nodded, "Yes please."

He mashed the gas and shot into the street, still looking at her in the mirror. Scared scooters swerved out of his way, honking on both sides, trying to avoid the dashing cab, slightly scraping the car as it jetted into the traffic with a sudden thrust.

"Oh my God! You're going to kill them! You almost ran over those poor..."

Shooting her eyes to the driver in horror, she realized he wasn't even looking at the road. He was still looking at her in the mirror, laughing loudly through missing teeth. Staring at him, she was frozen in terror. She imagined the car bumping over a scooter or bicycle rider at any second.

"What then?" Should I get out and run? I would have no choice."

Terrifying scenes flashed in her mind. The fear of being jumped humped and stripped of all her belongings right there in the street became suddenly real. She imagined being drug out of the offending vehicle. Stripped naked and whipped about the ears and buttocks by an angry Asian mob, forcing her to run off nude and screaming. The crowded streets of New York City were unnerving, but this... This was insane.

Tugging at her seatbelt with great vigor, she desperately tried to pull it out and snap it into the latch. But the constant sudden braking of the driver kept the seatbelt solidly stuck in its tight position. The bald driver continued spewing loud gibberish in broken English as he sped through the streets. Laughing crazily while blindly steering side-to-side one handed through the slower mass of scooters that consumed the street from sidewalk to sidewalk.

Holding fast to the stiff seatbelt, Ellen gripped it tight as if it gave her some sort of security. The driver never once slowed. Pressing the throttle harder, he flew through the tragic traffic with no concern for anyone in front of him. Darting the car in-between people, carts, cars and scooters, like a madman high on some savage new age crack, he laughed loudly as both feet worked the pedals simultaneously. Ellen stayed glued to her seat. She didn't even realize he was speaking anymore as he continued asking strange questions she couldn't possibly understand.

"Right there!" he yelled, pointing. "You can see there, do you see? Running in the light?" he yelled waving his arm. "You can go-go right away, we make a big bottom bet! You-a-wanna go go? We bottom bet big time! You betch-ya! We go now, big fun!"

Ellen sat terrified, pinned in her seat, eyes shut tightly in a grimace, only daring to peak them open for an instant between breathes. Sitting dead silent, her eyes shut tight, she was waiting for the impending sound of shattering glass as the car crashed, crumpling into a nearby building. Or worse, the horrifying sound of crunching twisting metal and snapping plastic as the cab tromped over a scooter with a thump, instantly killing the unsuspecting riders, too slow or too stupid to move out of the way in time. Her rattling nerves too strong to ignore any longer, she suddenly cried out loud, still clenching the stiff belt in her right hand.

"Stop! Jesus Oh God! Let me out!"

The driver just laughed louder.

"Ah... You wanna' the big fat Jesus? Sure sure I know how to go. You-a see real soon. Very good cheesecake. You-a see very soon! Terrific good cheesecake..."

She heard his twisted words, but couldn't imagine what to make of it.

"Cheesecake? Did he just say cheese... cake?" she couldn't comprehend why.

Surely her mind was playing tricks on her. Some surreal involuntary reaction to the scary scenes before her eyes no doubt. A pure figment of her imagination perhaps. Some deeply suppressed primal instinct must have transplanted those words into her subconscious, desperately struggling to hold her mind together, even if for just one more minute.

The cab's tires screamed and smoked as the driver whipped the car into a sharp turn, careening with a squeal towards a cement wall. Ellen held her breath in anticipation of the impact. Before she could brace herself, the world screaming past her screeched to a sudden halt as the cab skidded to a stop. The rapid whip of the wheel and the hard braking slammed her hard against the seat in front of her, causing her head to bounce off the door window with a thump. Blinking with blurring eyes, she looked around to see the damage from the crash.

Surprisingly, she realized they were parked perfectly in the quiet serene circle of a hotel parking entrance. Pulling the door handle, she stumbled out of the car, falling onto the steaming pavement, skinning her palms on the hot asphalt. Looking up she saw a sign. In big red letters the lighted sign in front of her read... "The Sheraton."

"It must be a sign," she thought.

Regardless of what the name was, it was indeed a hotel. A hotel with the same name as the one she had just left. The faux finish of the stucco exterior shimmered in the heat like a mirage in the Vietnamese sea of chaos. Rising up from the pavement, she felt her knees weaken, nearly failing her altogether.

The driver came rushing towards her, shaking his fists in anger.

"You pay now!" he cried out. "One hundred ninety thousand dong!"

She had no idea what he was he was saying. With trembling fingers, she handed him another hundred-dollar bill, too shaken to remember paying him the first time. Snatching the bill from her hand, he sped off with a squeal. A well-dressed valet from the hotel hurried up to her, trying to pull on the bag slung over her shoulder.

"Welcome, to the Sheraton. I can help you with your bag," he said in perfect English, tugging on her duffle.

Ellen yanked it back out of his hands. Blinking her eyes, she realized who he was.

"Thank you... But I will carry it myself," she replied, staring at her bloody skinned hands.

Following him towards to the entrance, he stepped quickly to hold the door open for her with a smile. As Ellen limped into the lobby the freezing air hit her hard.

"The Vietnamese must feel a collective insatiable passion to keep the a/c units on full bore, as high as it can crank out. Maximum volume. Full power. A non-stop torrent of frigid air blowing hard at all times, in all directions simultaneously," she thought as she shivered.

The cold was mind bending, breathtaking even. Outside it was pure heavy heat. So thick you have to drag yourself through it with all your might. Like walking waist deep in a hot fudge sludge. Then you step inside, instantly shivering from the numbing freezing cold.

Her damp clothes, wet from the scorching heat, mixed with her nervous sweat made her clinging shirt feel as if it were a frozen sheet of glass were sticking to her skin. Like a warm tongue stuck to a frozen icy steel post on a zero degree winter day, she shivered as she walked slowly, nearly unable to speak through chattering teeth.

The calm smiling faces of the desk clerks and the quiet ambiance of the vacant lobby set Ellen's nerves at ease. The comforting aroma of potted tropical plants and high-powered industrial cleaner eased her into a fairly familiar feeling of Americana. She was relieved to be sheltered in the safety of the Sheraton.

The hotel's ambiance wrapped her up like a blanket of comfort. She never wanted to venture outside again, at least not for while anyway. She needed relief, rest for her rattled mind. She needed to soothe her shattered nerves from the sudden shock of being thrust head first into the hot savage streets of Vietnam. This cold but quiet hotel beckoned as a welcome refuge. A slim smiling girl at the desk spoke up as Ellen walked closer.

"Hello, welcome to the Sheraton. Do you have a reservation?"

Ellen stopped, briefly catching her breath before answering.

"No, but I do need a room please."

The girl continued smiling as she spoke.

"No problem, we have many rooms available. Do you have a room preference?"

The girl rattled on something about singles, doubles, baths and views.

"No thanks. I just want a simple room. Nothing fancy."

Her French Sheraton stay had set her back a couple hundred dollars. She knew nice rooms were expensive. Even though she was carrying almost a hundred thousand dollars, spending hundreds per day made her uncomfortable.

"Are you paying in US dollars?" the clerk asked.

Ellen was relieved at the question.

"Yes, I am paying cash," she replied.

The smiling girl punched keys as she spoke.

"We have a budget room on the second floor. Room 210."

The clerk handed Ellen a key card as a bellhop ran up to her side with a jog. Ellen held fast to her bag. Seeing she was not going to allow him to carry the duffle, he simply smiled wide and walked ahead of her, escorting her to the room. She was comforted by his presence nonetheless.

Swiping the key card, the door sprang open with a click. Ellen stepped onto the soft carpet and took a deep breath of the polyester perfumed air. It settled her instantly. Turning to the bellhop, she handed him a crumpled twenty from her pocket. He beamed at her with joy. Nodding several times, he backed away, bowing as the door slowly closed. The door clicked shut. Twisting the lock, she felt safe now. The sights and smells were comforting, but the air was as cold as a morgue.

Finding the controls on the air conditioning unit, she twisted the knob until it stopped whirring. Throwing her bag on the bed, she fell backward on the bold colored comforter, collapsing with a deep sigh.

"Good Morning Vietnam!" she said out loud to herself with a laugh.

She had been in this chaotic country for less than an hour, and already she was desperate to leave.
Chapter 9
In cloudy Cincinnati, rain fell hard in sheets, smacking The Ship with a loud slap. The dining room was slower than usual, a good thing for the crew on hourly wages but a bad thing for tipped crewmembers. Charley was glad to be a salaried manager at times like this. Her time as a server meant faking politeness more than she cared for. Her hypocrisy neared its limits at every service in the past. Now she was free to spend her hours at work being her true self, finding no reason to bother with showing concern for other's feelings had set her free.

Charley's new manager role satisfied her. But seeing servers walk out with a couple hundred dollars more per day than Charley was making infuriated her. She was determined to find a way to skim the massive tip outs prior to their end of shift cash out. Since Charley became manager, some Ship servers were walking away with double their usual tips. Skimming fifty or even a hundred dollars per server, per shift, was too large of a number for Charley not to take interest in. And interested she was.

The problem for Charley was that she didn't have a true understanding of the sales report. It was long, complicated and balanced numbers against one another to margin totals. Nearly none of which she understood. Between dining room tasks, she studied the report again and again as she sat hopelessly confused in the locked office. After hours of reading it over from top to bottom, she still had no idea how to change the numbers without the servers knowing, nor why the sales totals and tip outs had doubled overnight.

George's fury was still simmering over Rob's walk out. No one was aware of his ultimate plan for The Ship. Since before his purchase, he laid out a secret agenda, the details were shielded from everyone. With Rob's sudden fleeing, George was facing a serious setback.

The first step of his plan revolved around Rob and Charley. Charley had fallen into place perfectly as the clueless manager. But now, Rob had unexpectedly run off to find Ellen, and just before a dinner meeting with people George desperately needed to impress. His highly touted chef was gone, and for how long no one could say for certain. George knew he was running out of time, he simply had to bring Rob back, no matter the cost.

Pacing at the bar, George held a fine wine in his hand. It had been hours since Rob left. The Unknown Caller at the airport was stuck waiting with no idea if Rob would appear. The servers casually ran food, stopping only to congregate outside, huddling under a patio roof smoking in the rain.

Still locked in the office, Charley had been out of sight for hours. It dawned on George he had not seen her for sometime. Her sleep over at his apartment made him realize what a real pleasure she was in bed. Feeling over stressed and anxious he wanted to meet her into the office for a bit more much needed relaxation. Looking around, he noticed she was nowhere to be seen. Stepping to the bar, he asked Jules if she had seen her.

"Nope. She hasn't been by here all day," she replied.

Heather walked in from outside, George stopped her with the same question.

"Uh, I think she's in the office. She's all worked up about the server reports or something," Heather said in passing.

Stopping her, George looked at her curiously.

"Server reports? Why would she be so concerned about that?" he asked.

"I dunno' she just keeps reading them again and again. I think she found something wrong with them or whatever."

George felt his pulse quicken.

"Did his she realize what was really going on? Could Charley understand the reports well enough to discover the laundered deposits?" She was chosen for her lack of professionalism. George assumed she would work as little as possible, but now... He wondered if she was digging deeper than he expected. Setting his glass on the bar, he headed straight for the office.

Knock knock knock, George rapped the office door.

"Charley, it's me."

Opening the door, she moved back to the desk chair.

"What keeps you in here working so hard my little kitten?" he asked with a kind concerned tone.

"Oh, you know, ordering the stock. Scheduling the crew log... the usual," she said smiling up at him. "Whatchya' doing back here? Are you lonely?" she asked as she slid her paperwork from sight.

"As a matter of fact, I am. I was thinking of your stay at my apartment and it got me excited," he replied, standing behind her, running his hands through her silky perfumed hair.

Turning the desk chair around to face him, she looked up, pouting her lips. "So... You were thinking of me and it made you excited huh?"

Her sly eyes stayed locked on to his as she tugged his belt loose, dropping his pants to the floor. Holding her head with both hands, he sighed as she took his manhood into her mouth. Starting off slowly at first then building to a faster momentum, she felt him grow larger between her lips. Rubbing her fingers along both sides of him, humming soft sounds, she took him deeper and deeper into her mouth. Looking up, her eyes smiled slyly. She could see his pleasure was building fast.

George was in no mood to hold off. After an intense few minutes of her expert technique, his orgasm hit so hard his knees felt weak. Stopping her motions, she held still as he released into her mouth. His hands slid from her hair, falling limp to his sides. Looking up smiling, she wiped her lips.

"You should come back here and see me more often," she said with a laugh.

Looking down at her with glazed eyes, George admired her beauty. Her face was remarkable. He looked at her perfect lips as she pouted, wiping them with a slender finger. Her dark eyes glimmered through long lashes. Would she lie to him through those beautiful eyes? Would he know if she did?

"Charley, I want you to be able to take more time off from here and spend more time with me. Why don't you let me take care of those tedious reports from now on? You could leave early and relax at my apartment until I arrive. What do you say?"

Looking satisfied, she stood up and agreed.

"Sure, I would like that." But don't worry about all those reports. It's no real bother. I can cash the servers out and still meet you at the apartment, any night you like."

Smiling, she sat looking up at him, both arms around his waist, waiting for his reply. He avoided an answer. Looking at her with sympathy, he tried again to get her to leave the reports alone.

"I just don't want to over work you. It's a learning curve here, taking on all this with no formal training. I will take care of those report tasks from now on."

As he ran his hands through her hair, Charley stood up straight, looking him in the eyes.

"I am The Ship's manager now and I will do my job and do it well," she said as he stroked her hair.

Studying her eyes for any hint of deception, he still wasn't sure if she realized that his secret could be revealed in those reports or not.

"Sure, I understand. I appreciate a person who knows what they want, and does whatever they have to do to make it happen. It's been slow tonight. Come to my place as early as possible. I want to see you as soon as you can be there. I am looking forward to another one of your... all night visits." Brushing her hair aside from her face, he winked at her.

Smiling back slyly, she returned the wink. "I can't wait," she said.

As George walked out, Charley followed him. He felt she was dancing around the subject of letting him handle the reports, but he couldn't be certain why. The laundered deposits had to be kept secret. Now, with her sudden focus on the reports, he would have to take more care to ensure they went unnoticed. He thought about her stubbornness over the issue and realized the best thing to do, the only thing he could do without alerting her to their importance, was to wait and watch her closer.

In the meantime, he decided he needed to give her a push, plant the seeds that would blossom into her total loyalty to him. He needed to keep her close, lure her into believing they might even someday marry. He knew a life of ultimate luxury was so important to her he could easily coax her along until his plan was complete. It didn't appear a difficult task, given her greedy nature. As he headed out to his car, he still felt he chose well selecting her to run point on The Ship, or at least making her believe she was. Nonetheless, he didn't trust her. Then again, George didn't trust anyone, except The Unknown Caller.
Chapter 10

Rob had just arrived in Tokyo as Ellen stopped at the front desk of the Ho Chi Minh Sheraton.

"Do you have a safety deposit box I can rent?" she asked.

A smiling man looked up at her.

"Of course! We have a deposit box room exclusively for our valued guests. Do you have your room key?"

Ellen gave him her key card and he took a key from the wall.

"Please, follow me."

The two walked down a hallway, past a steely-eyed armed security guard, and on through a steel door into a black vaulted room.

Flicking the light on, the man showed Ellen to the wall of locked boxes. Handing her a small key, he pointed to the locker box.

"Take your time. When you are finished, the guard will lock the door behind and see you to the lobby."

Relieved, Ellen took the thick stack of cash from her bag. Keeping out five hundred dollars, she slid the rest into the box and locked it tight. Locking the door, she tugged the handle, checking to be certain it was locked before walking out to the guard.

Walking into the lobby, Ellen decided to stop by the hotel restaurants in search of a good place to grab a bite and browse the web for clues as to where her search might begin. The Sheraton offered no less than seven dining options. On closer inspection, two were pubs and one was a nightclub. Of the four restaurants, one was fine dining and one served Chinese food. Of the remaining two, one was a gourmet coffee shop cafe and the last turned out to be a big buffet, The Saigon Cafe. The buffet won the toss-up.

The richly appointed restaurant looked fairly vacant as Ellen waited for the hostess.

"Table or booth?" the greeter asked.

"How about a table with a nice view?" Ellen replied with a smile.

The hostess nodded as she sped off with a shot. Ellen quickened her pace to keep up.

"Here is a great table overlooking Dong Khoi Street, very good view for you!"

Ellen agreed as she slid into her green woven bamboo seat.

"Today the buffet is featuring roast beef tenderloin, grilled lamb chops, and caramelized wok fried chicken. Plus, we have our always popular prime rib and barbecue carving stations."

Ellen's mouth watered as the server explained the dishes.

"Wow! Thank you. I will have an iced tea please."

Walking slowly past the steaming buffet pans, Ellen surveyed the selections before choosing her first dish. They all looked amazingly good. She had not sat down for a good meal since New York and her appetite was viscous. Soon, her plate was crowded with delicious treats. She was surprised at the vast selection of American style dishes.

The buffet was just what Ellen needed, the familiar dishes filled her with a comfort she had not felt since leaving. "The force is strong here," she teased to herself as she walked past row after row of delicious looking food. Walking back to her table, her plate too full to add anything else, she passed a pan of cheese-covered potatoes. "Oh, I have to try that scallop potato dish next..." Her very soul settled as she nestled into the booth with her brimming plate of food. If not for the frigid air conditioning, she would have felt perfectly content.

Scanning Google search results on her phone as she slowly enjoyed her food, Ellen found sites relating to finding Vietnamese/American children of soldiers long lost. Reading further, she learned there were many thousands of such offspring left behind after the war. Soldiers of all races fathered children with Vietnamese mothers during that time. The locals had names for the mixed race offspring; Con Lai, meaning "mixed race" was one term, but the horrible Bui Doi, loosely translated as "Worth less than dust" was the most common.

Nibbling bites off her plate, glued to her phone, Ellen's eyes began to tear as she read accounts of the terrible fates of these children. Not accepted in their own land, the mixed race kids were terrorized, beaten to death, cast out of towns and villages screaming in tears. Many more were arrested and sent to concentration camps. Often, both mother and child were forced from their villages. Chased out of town as locals spewed insults. The villagers threw rocks and spat at them, yelling out "Bui Doi!" as the terrified mothers ran with their babies to seek shelter in the jungle. Ellen couldn't believe what she was reading.

Young mixed girls were often kept alive to be sold as sex slaves. Tossed into shacks and chained to a dirty bed to be raped by savage men for a handful of change. The best looking girls were trucked to the city and locked in hotel basements to be used and abused by tourists looking for a cheap sex thrill. Their salvation from the life of torture came only after being killed when their usefulness had ended due to disease or misfortune.

"Oh my God! My sister could have been sold... She could even have been murdered."

Ellen felt a panic as she read about the thousands of mixed children that simply went missing, never to be seen again. The lost were presumably taken as sex slaves or killed by some drunken angry mob during a late night kidnapping. It was a common practice.

The "Amerasians" were a painful reminder to the locals of the US soldiers who had brought so much death and destruction to their land. The authorities looked at torturing and killing the mixed offspring of these American soldiers as an attempt to exact some sort of twisted revenge on their far off fathers. It was tolerated as a form of much deserved payback for leaving them in a ruined smoking landscape with nothing left but death, ruin, loss, pain and communism.

The mother's who bore the hated children were also beaten, scorned, arrested, and if attractive enough, sold as a sex slave along with her child. To be born in Vietnam of a US father and Vietnamese mother was to be born screaming into a hell on earth, death being the only solace.

Ellen quickly came to the realization that her search to find her long lost sister may have come decades too late. Most of these abandoned offspring had died long ago as children. The few who lived were sold off, vanished into the wicked Vietnamese underworld. Some managed to flee. A few even making it to the US after long journeys and overwhelming hardship.

The US funded programs at one point to help the mixed race kids immigrate. The first was titled the Amerasian Transit Center, or ATC. A concentration camp holding compound of sorts created to protect and house mixed race kids until they could legally leave Vietnam. It had closed in the 90's.

The Orderly Departure program replaced the ATC. It also closed shortly after being created. A US based "Amerasian Resettlement Program" opened in its place, but the backlog was intense. The desperate Amerasian children crowded around the US consulate, waiting outside in the monsoon rain day and night for weeks. They waited, huddled together in the mud under makeshift shelters. Clinging to the hope they could be granted a visa and flee Vietnam with their lives, but the program moved too slow.

Crowds of these desperate children gathered in large numbers and soon the evildoers took advantage. They blackmailed the Amerasians. Sold them fake papers and passports. They robbed and raped them at will right on the sidewalks. The kids fell desperately broke and hungry waiting for help that never came. Ellen imagined her sister fighting to survive through these tragedies. She was losing hope she would ever see her alive, as well as her appetite.

Today, there were a handful of dedicated individuals working out of kindness on their own to help. Using the power of the Internet, they worked to locate and reunite the offspring with their US fathers. They ran web sites in an effort to connect the lost relatives with their estranged parent searching online. Ellen found that the largest and seemingly most successful was called "Founding Father."

This site had helped connect and re-locate scores of Amerasians in the last 15 years. Ellen's hopes perked up as she read testimonials of saved children, reunited with their fathers in the US. She smiled at the photos posted of a dad and his new found daughter as they posed in Times Square together.

She wondered, would her mission be a success story? Or would she only discover dead ends, or worse, a dead sister. Fearing the worst, Ellen found she had lost her appetite completely. Not wanting to appear wasteful, she slowly finished what was on her plate. But her enthusiasm to return to the buffet and sample more tantalizing selections had left her entirely.

Hunger, had been replaced by sickening remorse. The stories she had just read made Ellen realize she hadn't fully understood what she was undertaking. Her initial thoughts were simply that she would come here and find her sister. She imagined her as a woman working for low wages, living her life as a normal Vietnamese girl, maybe even married, perhaps with children of her own as well. Ellen desperately wanted to find her now more than ever, offer her a way into the US, extend to her the love of family and friendship, and explain to her about the father she never knew.

After reading the terrible stories, Ellen imagined her tied to a mattress in a rotting basement, badly bruised and scarred from years of rape and torture. The mental images were too painful to imagine. Ellen felt Maria, wherever she was, if still alive, probably needed her help more than she ever imagined. This mission had just taken on a deeper meaning.

Ellen sent an email to the Founding Fathers page, and also to every similar site she could find. She posted an ad on Craigslist, with the name and last known location of her sister, plus a photo of her dad as some sort of facial reference. Reluctantly, she scanned the Craigslist escort pages, looking for anything that looked like her relative but the images were too numerous to manage. There were hundreds; perhaps thousands of Vietnamese prostitute ads to sort through. This search was going nowhere. She knew she needed real help, local help. She would start in Can Tho, the last known place her father had seen Maria's mother alive and well. She would leave in the morning. Today she would make plans for a ride, retreat to her room and continue her online research.

Walking into the lobby, Ellen asked the desk clerk about the town she was heading to.

"Have you ever heard of Can Tho?"

The clerk replied he did, but had never been there. He asked the guard.

"Can Tho?"

The guard nodded. "Yes. Can Tho, in the Mekong Delta, the floating city. Yes, very beautiful. I was there a few years ago, a very good place for holiday. It is about four hours west of here," the guard said with a smile. "Many hotels for tourists there. Some fancy, some not. Very good food," he added.

Not only did she find out where the town was, but also it sounded wonderful.

"A resort hotel town? Really, that sounds better than I expected," she thought.

Ellen was pleased she was not heading into a third world ghetto as she first imagined. In her mind, the words 'Mekong Delta' were synonymous with stories from her fathers past experiences, none of which sounded anything remotely resort-like.

This sounded good for her sister's fate. Perhaps Maria escaped the racist persecution of her mixed heritage living in a tourist laden resort town. Ellen held onto any thought that pointed away from the notion that her sister may be a slave prostitute, or dead.

"I plan to leave for Can Tho today," Ellen told the guard. "Do you have any idea what is the best way to get there?"

The guard and the clerk looked at each other speaking fast in Vietnamese then chuckled.

"Sure sure, you can go by taxi or bus," the clerk replied.

Ellen wasn't interested in another hair-raising ride with a maniacal cab driver, let alone for several hours.

"What about the bus?" she asked looking hopeful.

"Phuong Trang Express," he replied. "Three, maybe four hours on highway 1A, to Can Tho. The bus station is near here."

She dreaded a four-hour bumpy bus ride, but it seemed the best way to go.

"I will get my things and check out."

She thanked them again as she hurried away to her room.

The bus station was easy to find, crossing the street to get to it wasn't. The traffic never stopped. It flowed along in a never-ending worming sea of bikes and honking cars. Like a river of tiny boats floating on dry land, the thick mass of traffic drifted by without a pause. Ellen realized she simply had to walk out into the flow head first, with no fear. She darted, dodged and weaved her way across the street, making her way to the bus station.

"Ticket to Can Tho please," she said to the man at the counter.

"American money?" he replied.

"Yes. US dollars," Ellen said holding out her cash.

"Four dollars and fifty cents please," he said.

She was amazed, for under five bucks she could travel four hours to another city. "Sure!" she replied as she handed him a crisp bill, amazed at the low price. She thought about the taxi driver, how he ripped her off so badly. She lost two hundred dollars to that angry man's scam. "No more!" she said to herself. "From here on out, I will hold my own against these thieves."

Climbing on the sleek bus, she was impressed. It was modern, inviting and comfortable. Minutes later, she had her doubts. It was crowding fast. Taking a seat in the rear, Ellen found a curved seat larger than the rest. Relaxing in her corner seat, she was perfectly comfortable, aside from the fact that the air conditioning on the bus was chillingly cold.

The bus crawled off on its way. Ellen began to relax, she felt safe on the big bus. The tiny cars and scooters were no match for this massive behemoth. She felt confident she would ride in comfort and safety to Can Tho.
Chapter 11

Sipping broth from an ancient earthenware bowl in a Tokyo noodle house, Rob wasn't waiting to arrive in Vietnam to start his search for Ellen. He slurped down the succulent silken noodles as he dialed the hotels. Working his way down the long list of hotels he had assembled on the plane, one by one he called the numbers. Asking the desk clerk if there was an Ellen Addison checked in, he was anxiously waited to hear the answer he hoped for... "Yes sir, there is." After almost an hour of calling hotels, he was still clueless to Ellen's whereabouts.

His eyes focused on the list of hotels but his mind was distracted by the deeply layered flavors of the food in front of him. The handmade noodles were so good and so cheap the meal was nearly free. It was no wonder the long line outside the noodle house waited patiently to grab their own bowl of the beautiful broth and noodle.

The rain began to fall hard, but the long line stood firmly in place under tarp awnings. Each face looked over the shoulders in front, counting down the heads until their turn was near. Rob sympathized as to the reasons why. Sure, New York had great Chinese food, but this was another thing altogether. This was an entirely new world of flavor.

A small leather-faced man eating at an adjacent table obnoxiously spit small chicken bones onto the tabletop. Rob paid him no mind. His thoughts were focused on discovering every exotic flavor as it passed over his tongue. The broth alone was nearly intoxicating. Fresh garlic, roasted pork bones and smoky fish sauce oozed their robust flavors into the golden liquid. Chewy pale yellow noodles tangled around chunks of braised pork, crisp bean sprout, chopped crab legs and scallion sat submerged in the steaming broth. Beads of fabulously rich fat floated across the top. The big bowl cost just three dollars, yet the flavors were priceless.

After finishing the last morsel, Rob jogged through the pouring rain back to the hotel. Standing under the hot shower, his mind flashed back to Ellen. He had many more calls to make and just one more hour to make them in before he needed to be at the terminal for his next flight.

"One more flight and hopefully I will catch up to her," he thought to himself reassuringly.

Drying and getting dressed, he imagined her face when she first saw him, her eyes lighting up with surprise.

"Just a few more hours, and I will be in Vietnam," he whispered to himself as sat on the bed putting on his shoes.

His anticipation grew stronger as he gathered his things to leave. He would soon be in the city Ellen landed in last, but had still no idea where to find her, assuming she was still there. Nonetheless, his spirits lifted with thought of being that much closer to finding her.

Staring at the scenery from her seat on the cold crowded bus, Ellen watched out the window as they moved into the outskirts of the city. The bus whizzed past homemade ramshackle corrugated steel houses, random stray dogs and on past cobbled together roadside stands. After an hour, the traffic faded to only a few random scooters and an occasional donkey and cart.

The scenery had quickly changed from the concrete, neon and glass of the city, to worn weathered shacks perched high on stilts, surrounded by muddy rice paddies and lush green jungle. The highway was smooth and looked recently built. The bus rolled on swiftly as they careened through the countryside. They had been driving southwest into the blinding sun since leaving the city. Crossing several bridges, the landscape soon reverted to an ancient land. The black asphalt cut a path through huge expansive rice farms stretching out to the horizon as far as she could see.

An hour later, the road cut through thick jungle. It was then that Ellen had her first look deep into the true Mekong Delta. The road crossed rivers that wormed in all directions. Tall grassy marshes revealed mud-covered crocodiles, giant wading birds and hundreds of monkeys hunched along the edge of the highway. Ellen watched in wonder as they sped through the wilderness and wildlife. The monkeys took notice of the rushing bus, but appeared seemingly undisturbed as it whooshed by just a few feet from their huddle.

Untamed and wild, this massive expanse of swamp and jungle seemed a whole world away from the crowded madness of Ho Chi Minh City. The bus briefly stopped in a few tiny villages then continued on uninterrupted through many more miles of perfectly rectangular sectioned farmland. The sun was setting as they headed due west, cutting through lush forests of Mangrove trees, and shadowy jungle.

Crossing the big green Basac Hau River over a massive modern bridge, the lights of Can Tho finally came into view. The sklyline looked amazingly beautiful compared to Ho Chi Minh City. Ellen had left just over three hours ago, yet felt she was arriving in another world now. The sun sank into the ocean just as the bus pulled into the city. Darkness slowly fell. The glow of the brilliant neon and festive colored bulbs began to light up in front of her eyes. Slowing to a stop at the station, an elderly woman sitting next to Ellen, rose off her seat and smiled.

"You are tourist to Can Tho?" the lady asked.

Ellen nodded, smiling back, she replied.

"Well, I suppose you could say that. I'm really glad to finally be here."

The lady smiled and began singing a short song to Ellen as they stood in the aisle waiting to move along.

"Cần Thơ gạo trắng nước trong Ai đi tới đó lòng không muốn về..."

A man sitting in a nearby seat stood up as they inched their way off the bus. Glancing at the singing woman, he nodded at Ellen. Pointing at the woman, he explained.

"It means, Cần Thơ, white rice, clear waters, all who come wish never to leave."

Ellen smiled at the singing woman in appreciation for her sentiment. Moving off the bus, the woman waved at Ellen before disappearing into the crowded street. On the coast, the evening air was alive and vibrant. Breathing in the salt air on the breeze, Ellen caught an exhilarating aroma of a nearby wok as it radiated the smoky scent of something wonderful into the night air.

The city was lit up end to end with neon light, bright as a Times Square Christmas. Along the waterfront, the coconut palms held blue and green lights, shining down from high in their fronds, festively illuminating the beach below. The waterfront hotels were lit from top to bottom in yellow, green, red and blue neon. Giant streaming ribbons of electric light radiated brilliant colors onto the streets. At night, Can Tho looked more like Las Vegas than Vietnam.

Drawn to the waterfront, Ellen walked along the white sand beach, absorbing the sights and sounds around her. Hotels lined the main road, all looking richly expensive. Walking past them, Ellen spotted a small inviting hotel among the giant structures, The Nam Mon Budget Design Hotel.

The red painted two-story building seemed almost dollhouse-like with its open front and large windows. It wasn't big or expansive like the nearby neon lit mammoths surrounding it, but the charm of the building stirred something in Ellen. Stepping into the quaint lobby, she was greeted inside with a warm welcome.

"Hello! Welcome to the Nan Mon! Will you be staying with us tonight?" A smart dressed girl asked from the desk.

"I may be... I wanted to see your place, it's very inviting," Ellen replied as she looked around.

"Oh yes! Very inviting. We have three room sizes, free bike rentals, maps, tour bookings and guides. We also offer car rentals and laundry service. All our rooms have high speed Internet and the security here is excellent. 24-hour camera systems surround the entire property. Very safe I assure you. Would you like to see a room?" the desk girl asked.

Ellen liked the sound of the security.

"Do you have a safe deposit box?"

The girl looked puzzled.

"A safe to lock up small things?" Ellen explained.

"No, but the rooms are very safe," the clerk replied.

Ellen knew before the girl even answered she wanted to stay here regardless of her reply.

"How much are the rooms?"

The girl shot Ellen a smile. "The standard Comfort Room is twenty US dollars. The Superior Room is twenty-eight. The large Junior Suite includes a workspace and windows that have a view of the waterfront. It is our nicest room and runs thirty four dollars."

Ellen couldn't believe the prices.

"I think the Junior Suite sounds great. I would love to see the beach from my window."

Handing the girl cash, she received her key with no delay. Walking upstairs to the room, the door opened revealing deep red walls. A low futon bed centered the room. Petite recliner chairs faced the view of the neon-lined landscape along the beach. Tossing her bag, she fell onto the short bed. Soft feather pillows instantly put her at peace as she relaxed from the long bus trip. Checking her email, she had no replies from the website's she had emailed earlier.

"Searching for Maria Mai Lee - Reward for information," she typed in a local craigslist post. "Mother, Mai Sun Lee, from Can Tho. Cash reward for information on either person."

Ellen felt that posting a reward was a worthwhile effort in her search. Her father had told her the Lee family owned a large store in the early 1970's and were well known to the locals. Tomorrow, she would rise early and begin her search in person. Settling into her room, she decided on making a few more web searches after a shower and a fresh change of clothes.

The night air soon begged for company as the aromas of street food wafted through Ellen's open window, beckoning her to come explore the foreign flavors. Succumbing to the enticing scent, she quickly hid her stash of cash before heading down to the waterfront to explore her late night dinner options.

Wandering through the brightly lit Palm lined streets; Ellen was amazed at the variety of street food and nightlife. Unlike Ho Chi Minh, this place seemed full of smiling faces and friendly locals. Stopping at a fruit drink stand, Ellen bought a frozen mango passion fruit drink topped with fresh coconut milk. It was soothing and deliciously refreshing against the hot muggy air. Asking the vendor for a food recommendation, he pointed with a nod as he spoke.

"Go to Hot Pot Alley, many choices there. Very close. Very good. It's just over there."

Following his recommendation, Ellen found her way to the alley. Crossing a tiny handmade bridge, she noticed a throng of people at the entrance to the eateries. Coming into the warmly lit row of bustling storefronts, Ellen was surprised to find the crowd was mostly young college age patrons, nearly all of them holding alcoholic drinks and cigarettes as they gathered laughing. The air was deliciously infused with the powerful aromas of sizzling fish, grilling chicken and roasted duck. Walking into the alley, she could see right off all the individual restaurants were very popular, each serving a different version of the popular Hot Pot.

Passing slowly along the entrances, Ellen browsed the food on the diner's tables. Every table held a steaming several quart pot of broth simmering on a portable burner. Servers rushed by with plates piled high with fresh raw vegetables and roasted meats. The diners seized the food from the platters with fast-fingered chopsticks, quickly dunking the ingredients in their steaming pot. Coils of bean thread noodles accompanied the platters in big bowls.

It became quickly apparent that each storefront specialized in a different variety of Hot Pot. The first, grilled seafood, the next grilled chicken... roasted duck... braised beef... slow smoked pork and so on. The specialties seemed endless. Crowded open front cafes lined both sides of the alley. Boisterous crowds clamored together at sidewalk tables, bumping the backs of their chairs into one another as they squeezed together for a noisy meal.

Staring into one of the storefronts, a particularly scrumptious looking platter of smoking grilled prawns breezed past Ellen's eyes. The dish moved her instantly, tugging her along with its scent. Following it as it was held high over the heads of the sitting diners, Ellen wormed through the crowd, keeping pace with the server carrying the tempting treat.

A lone corner table, still littered with empty dishes was the only seat remaining. Ellen quickly claimed it with excitement. The second she sat down, a server in white came by whisking up the mess. The hurried server seemed to speak no English. Ellen pointed at the nearby prawn platter with a bright-eyed smile. Nodding with silent understanding, the server carried off the dirty dishes.

In seconds, a burner and pot of broth landed on her table. By the time it rushed to a rolling boil, the server stacked small bowls of fresh cut mushrooms, green onion, bean sprouts, garlic and ginger beside it. Alongside those, cold noodles coiled in a big wooden bowl. A second server followed close behind with the platter of the smoking prawns. The servers bowed slightly and sped off. The amazing freshness of it all amazed her. The lightning fast service seemed too efficient to be true.

"These guys will never get in the weeds. They just drop off the pot of broth, chop up the ingredients and you do the cooking. It's genius!" she thought as she dunked her first forkful of noodles into the steaming broth.

Savoring the complex flavors, she smiled with delight. The intoxicating broth soothed her deeply. Forking more noodles into the pot, along with items from the small bowls, her first true taste of Vietnam was eye opening. It was an amazing revelation of the cultural differences. Back on The Ship, the cooks were using tedious techniques, long prep hours and hell bent for leather speed to keep up with a crowd half as busy as tonight was in Hot Pot Alley. Yet, the cooks and servers here were feeding the masses with ease, quickly and without a second of stress.

Enjoying her food, Ellen thought about how much Rob would appreciate the experience here. The worry she felt in Paris over not being able to ever contact him again gave her a pause of remorse. Slurping a forkful of noodles, she stared out at the passing crowd as they pushed past the tables, drinking and laughing.

Savoring the flavors slowly, she wondered where Rob could be now. How she could find him again, even if just to call. She decided to call The Ship again tomorrow and find out what had happened to Rob, this time she wasn't taking no for an answer.
Chapter 12

Nine thousand miles away from Can Tho, fabulous food was cooking on The Good Ship as well. Though not near with the ease, speed or grace as the dishes in Hot Pot Alley. Miguel was stressfully facing down a long row of tickets fluttering against the fan.

"Micah I need four ribs with that fish, four all day!" he yelled out.

Micah looked at the over loaded grill.

"Uh.... Okay, four more. I have, one, two, three, four, five, six... Two go with that order, that leaves these... one... two... three, yeah... four," he replied as he counted again to be certain.

The crew was keeping up, but ticket times were slower than when Rob was working. Their haste caused the plates to not be as perfectly plated as when Rob was in command as well. George stood at the pass, nervously watching the duo crank out the plates.

"They're actually doing good," Charley commented as she stopped at his side.

"Maybe good, but not like Rob, not perfect," George replied.

Charley shrugged. "Who cares? Nothing has come back. Nothing has been left off. No one is complaining. What's the big deal? I don't see why we even really need Rob."

George shot her an angry glance. "The big deal is that I have guests out there that I need to... People I want to impress with my new restaurant. Without Rob, the food isn't the same. And there is no fried cheesecake, no beautiful dessert at all. Just these simple brought in pies."

Charley looked puzzled. "Those pies are good, they are from Servatii. Jesus George, you act like your guests are going to think our food sucks or something. I'm sure their food will be fine."

George shook his head. "It's not just the food, I needed them to meet Rob. People love to meet the rising star chefs. How can I sell him as a rising star if he's not even here!"

Charley tilted her head. "Sell him?"

George realized his mistake. "You know what I mean, sell them on our food. Make them feel like this is the hottest place in the city. These are wealthy people Charley, the kind I... The kind we need, for The Ship's success."

George's phone buzzed a text in his pocket. Swiping the screen, he read the news he had been waiting for.

"Just missed Anderson in Tokyo. He is in flight, bound for Ho Chi Minh. Arriving at midnight. Expect results by morning."

George felt a slight relief as he looked out at the table of corporate VIPs. He had promised them a night a culinary excellence, in the hopes of baiting them into a high dollar purchase of The Ship. He knew they were seeking not only a great location, but a location with a respected chef that could give their corporate menu more local credibility. That was a valuable added bonus. He assured them Chef Rob was just what they were looking for. Now he wasn't sure they would be impressed.

"Gentlemen! How is the food?" George asked, spreading his arms out towards the VPs at the table.

"Very good George, these ribs are great, this sauce and the amazing rub. And that lamb, so succulent, what is that curious spicy sweetness in the sauce George?"

George laughed with confidence. "Ah but if I tell you, I would have no secret recipes. Only the Chef and I know our precious trade secrets."

The VP shot him a curious look. "Yes, the Chef... Is he going to have time to come out? We would love to meet this Chef you have told us so much about."

The ladies at the table all nodded in agreement. One of them spoke up.

"Yes is Chef Anderson coming to say hello? We would love to meet the man behind this wonderful food."

George leaned close to her. "Of course you would, he is as handsome as he is talented and you will meet him soon... I will send him out the second he has a break. You see we are very busy here tonight. We are busy every night."

Bending down close to the senior VP, George whispered softly. "That reminds me, after dinner, we can have a drink and I will give you a sneak peek at our latest profit and loss statements. You will be interested in the numbers I am certain."

The VP nodded as he pulled another bone off his rack of ribs. "Absolutely George. I am very interested to see those statements."

As if he was needed to complete some important task, George patted the VP's shoulder before walking away to the computer.

"Everything is working perfectly," he thought to himself. "If only Rob were here! I could seal this deal tonight." Clenching his fists in anger, he stormed away to the kitchen.

George was the last thing on Rob's mind. He was halfway into an eight-hour plane ride to Ho Chi Minh. The side effects of something in the Tokyo noodles kept him running to the plane's plastic restroom. On the third trip to the toilet, he felt fairly sure the worst was past. As the flight attendant brought the dinner menu, Rob found he had lost interest in another unfamiliar meal for the time being. He chose a simple fruit salad instead, eating it along side a fairly fresh roll.

The lights dimmed as most passengers dozed off to sleep. For Rob, sleep wasn't an option. He was geared too high calculating his next move. None of his calls had resulted in any information so far. There was no time to waste, he had to find Ellen before his cash ran too low to return home on.

"Ellen could be near broke herself," he thought. "She couldn't have saved much, taking care of the apartment and her dad all by herself."

The last thing he wanted was for both of them to be stuck in Vietnam without enough funds to return home. He couldn't have imagined Ellen was traveling with a hundred thousand dollars in cash.

Trying to sleep over the next four hours was no use. Wide awake, high in the midnight sky, Rob's plane touched down in Ho Chi Minh City. Even at this time of night, the city was alive and teaming with traffic. Sitting on a corner bench outside the airport, Rob casually watched the passing people as he pondered his next move. Checking off all the hotels he had already called, he looked at the list of remaining names and started dialing. Repeating his question many times, the same reply was given... No Ellen Addison was checked in. Frustrated, he found his list growing short.

"Where would I go in this mess if I was Ellen? Okay, where did she go before? George mentioned, in Paris, she went to the Sheraton. If she liked that hotel, she may try to find one here."

Looking it up on his phone, the Sheraton was not far away. Dialing the number, he waited hopeful as it rang.

"Hi, do you have an Ellen Addison there?" he asked after a clerk answered.

"Please hold," the clerk replied. After a brief delay the clerk came back on. "No sir, no Ellen Addison here today."

Instantly disappointed, Rob was about to hang up. "Today? What about yesterday?" he asked.

"One moment..." After a brief wait, the clerk replied.

"Yes. Ellen Addison. She checked out this morning."

Jumping up off the bench, Rob was filled with elation.

"Really! Ellen, Ellen Addison checked out of there yesterday! I need to speak with anyone who saw her."

The clerk explained none of the employees on the current shift were on duty when Ellen checked out. And that he should call tomorrow during the day shift and ask then.

"Damn! Another delay. Another sit and wait set-back," he said to himself.

Deciding to check in anyway, he headed to the hotel. He would sleep there tonight and ask around first thing in the morning.

Surrounded by the exotic midnight scenes in Can Tho, Ellen wasn't near ready for sleep. Her belly full of scrumptious Hot Pot, strolling leisurely back to the Nan Mon, the night air filled her with excitement. The ocean breeze cooled the steaming city, blowing salty ocean air across the beach, rattling the palm fronds. Carrying her shoes, she walked barefoot in the sand. Couples clutching hands darted out of the darkness from the waters edge, returning from a late night swim, or knee high water walk. Teenagers on bikes gathered in a small group, passing smokes while playing music on their phones. Ellen remembered the song the lady had sung to her on the bus, "All who come here never want to leave." She could almost see herself living here. As the magic and beauty surrounded her, it was hard to imagine there was a brutal war on these very streets not that long ago.

Walking back into her hotel, she noticed a sign in the lobby.

"Tours: Floating Market, Countryside, Street Food and Can Tho history."

The desk clerk looked Ellen's way. "Maybe you would enjoy a tour?" she asked.

Ellen looked at her as she read the sign again. "Can Tho History?" she replied curiously.

The clerk nodded. "Yes, it's a new tour. We have a special tour guide for that one, Bao Tong. He has lived in Can Tho for 87 years. He knows every road and every building, a very interesting person. He knows many war relics hidden from tourists and other tours."

Ellen was very interested. She thought about the tour guide, Bao. "If he knows every building from that time he may know the Lee's grocery store. They were well known!" She was excited.

"What time is the first tour?" she asked.

The clerk looked at the chart and replied. "Nine in the morning for Can Tho History with Mr. Tong, just three dollars."

Buying a ticket, Ellen thanked her. Jogging to her room, she knew she would be on that tour bright and early.
Chapter 13

Charley realized George was in deep frustration, but had no idea why. He had been pacing the pass all night, personally inspecting every dish for his VIP table. He had even pleaded with Miguel to make the fried cheesecake.

Miguel shook his head. "I told you before already, only the Chef can make those. If I make em' they gonna' melt and bust. I've tried eet already before, eets complicated, you know?"

George was frustrated, but was also helpless at the same time. "Make the best dessert you can then. Make it look as good as you can manage," he said as he walked out of the swinging doors.

George had coaxed his well moneyed buyers in for dinner, but the meal wasn't what he had hoped for. Just as he feared, when the dessert came, the simple slice of pie left them let down. Expecting a dessert as good as their dinner, their expectations were quashed. Miguel only served the stocked desserts in Rob's absence, whereas Rob often made decadent fresh desserts, especially for valued guests. The guests were also put off by the fact Chef Rob never appeared once throughout the meal. George was nervous the VP wouldn't stay behind to listen to his pitch and read the seemingly awesome but false profit and loss statements.

Charley knew something was up. These were more than just people George simply wanted to impress. She knew all about that game. She knew full well you don't go to these lengths unless there's a real reward at the end. George assumed he could explain away the dessert, but how could he explain away Rob's absence?

With arms stretched out wide, he returned to the table with a sympathetic smile.

"I am very sorry, but Chef Rob left suddenly to see a relative in the hospital. He couldn't even stay to make your dessert. I would be delighted if you could come back, this weekend perhaps?"

He watched their faces as he explained Rob's absence.

"Wow, I hope everything is okay," the VP replied.

Hearing about the sudden hospital trip, he nodded with understanding as he forked into his pie.

"Sure, we can wait. We are in town previewing properties until Sunday. Monday we will fly back and propose our choice to the board. I would like to meet your chef before we make a final decision. This Saturday night then?"

George agreed quickly. "Yes, all of you come back Saturday. I will make certain Chef Rob personally creates you another amazing meal, not to mention a true work of art for dessert."

Rising from his seat, the VP agreed. "We will make a night of it. Perhaps spend some time enjoying your patio if the weather allows."

Smiling back, George waved to the deck.

"Yes, we have a simply amazing view from the patio. I will reserve you a table inside and a patio cabana for drinks after."

The VP nodded, handing a corporate credit card to Heather as she bussed the table. George took the card from her hand, offering it back to the VP.

"My valued guests are just that, guests. There is no charge, nor would there be if I were your guest I'm sure."

Taking back the card, The VP shook George's hand.

"Very kind sir. You have a wonderful establishment here. This place is more expensive than we initially budgeted, but I do see it's unique merits."

George smiled. "When you see our statements, you'll wish you possessed The Ship for your own."

Laughing together, George walked beside him to the valet. Walking back up the gangplank, George's emotions ran hot. "This simply has to work Saturday," he whispered as he walked back.

George's instincts were fine tuned to people's reactions. Like a Pro Poker Player, he could feel what was in the other man's hand. The VP was interested, but still on the fence. Without Rob present, and at his best on Saturday night, this critical deal could dissolve.

Swiping through his text messages, George pressed the contact titled "Unknown Caller". Quickly typing a message.

"Rob required here no later than Friday. No exceptions. Use any means."

Sliding the phone back in his breast pocket, George noted the time. The clock was ticking down now. The Unknown Caller had little time left to find Rob and get him onto his chartered seaplane. If Rob wasn't back by Saturday afternoon, it could blow the whole deal.

For the next day and night, George's life would revolve around the hour, counting down the minutes until Rob's arrival. There was no time to source another buyer. George's trap was set, his plans now rested solely on Rob's return.

After a good night's sleep, Ellen awoke refreshed. The tour didn't start for a half hour, but she was in the lobby early, anxious to meet the guide. Sipping a surprisingly good coffee, she watched every face coming in the door. After a few minutes, a spry elderly man pulled up to the entrance on a scooter. Passing it off to the attendant, he walked inside. Standing at the clerk's desk he looked over a chart.

"No tickets but one?" he asked sadly. "Not enough customers to bother with today. Tell that one to come back tomorrow, maybe more people then."

Panic rushed through Ellen as she heard his words. "Sir! Sir, please! I need to talk to you," she called out, running to his side.

Looking over as Ellen rushed towards him, he wondered what her troubled look was all about.

"I am looking for my sister. Her name is Maria Mai Lee. Her mother was Mai Sun Lee. Her father was... Her father was my father too."

Looking at her with raised eyebrows, he scowled.

"Why do you tell me these things?" he asked.

Ellen paused. "Well, the Lee's owned a large grocery store here in 1975. I thought you might know of it, or the family name Lee."

Laughing, he replied. "I do know the name, thousands here have that name. And there were nearly as many grocery stores in 1975 as they were Lee's. All are gone now from that time."

Ellen felt discouraged. "So you can't help me? The names mean nothing to you?"

His face turned solemn. "I am truly sorry. I don't know how to help you. But if this person you seek is half American, she would have likely been re-located. Most mixed children were taken from the city, either by their mothers or by the authorities. Some of the ones who stayed still live here, mostly on the water, as do many other people too poor to afford homes on the land."

Ellen felt distress with the tone of his remarks, but his reply held promise. Maybe her sister would be among those who stayed.

"Where can I find a guide to the people on the water?" Ellen asked.

Laughing again, Bao shook his head. "A guide? The people on the water have no homes but the water. They come and go with the tide. They move up and down the coast as they please. You'll not likely find a guide willing to venture there. The water is home to the peddlers, outcasts and criminals. There are many thieves and kidnappers living in the anonymous safety of water world as well. Many dangerous people, it's not safe for an old man like me, let alone a girl like you. Even the police do not venture onto the water. That world is the domain of the deadly gangs."

Ellen heard his warning but was still fueled to find Maria.

"Surely there is someone... You can't think of anyone who could help?"

With a sudden look of realization, Bao pointed his finger towards the beach.

"Hao... Yes... Hao. He has many friends on the water. He used to run a tour of the market vendors. They were in a league with him. They respected him and treated his tourists well. He doesn't do the tour anymore, but I know where he can usually be found."

Ellen's hopes were renewed. "Is it far? Can I go see him now?"

Bao nodded. "Sure, you go down the waterfront, down to the bridge, turn left, head east, follow Tam Vu along the river. After a block or so you will see a dock with many boats of the market. He will likely be there. He fishes when there is no work. When there are no fish, he drinks the rice liquor. He does more drinking than working or fishing. That's why he no longer does the tour, too many complaints from the tourist about him being drunk."

Thanking him. Ellen sprinted out of the lobby.

Awaking in the Sheraton at daybreak, Rob asked the desk clerk about Ellen.

"Ellen Addison was here yesterday, I missed her and I need to catch up to her, or at least get a message to her. Do your remember her? She's American, about your height, blondish hair, blue eyes?"

"Yes! Very nice lady. Very excited to go to Can Tho. Looking for someone I think, maybe it was you?" the clerk replied.

Rob was elated. "Yeah, well, I'm looking for her too. How do I get to Can Tho?" he asked.

The clerk laughed. "The same way she did I suppose. Take the Phuong Trang Express. One leaves in ten minutes. You can still make it if you leave now."

Rob thanked him then ran back to the room, gathering his things. Dashing to the bus station, he just made it on time to buy a ticket on the big streamlined bus.

"How long of a ride is this?" he asked the driver as he boarded.

"With luck, three hours. Probably four if it rains."

Rob didn't care. It was a direct route straight to Ellen. It filled him with excitement. He had come this far and now he was closing in.
Chapter 14

Miles away, the Unknown Caller was gaining ground on Rob. He had arrived in Ho Chi Minh and learned about the bus ticket purchase hours after Rob departed. Now, screaming across the 1A highway at over ninety miles an hour, The Caller's Fiat rental car tore through the hot wind chasing the bus. With any luck, he could pass them, and be ready at the station to snatch his target into his waiting car tonight.

On The Ship, George found it hard to focus. Charlie's thoughts were riveted to the server reports. It would seem her Catholic high school math class lessons were not educational enough to be of any use in understanding the full report. Without being able to ask anyone for help, she was stuck trying to understand the mysterious totals alone.

"Did we really sell that much more? It doesn't seem that much busier. Why would these numbers be so high? How are these sales ringing in before we open? Something must be screwy with this computer."

She read the report over many times but the tags were just acronyms and the three letter references made no sense to her. "Why doesn't it just say what it fucking means!" she yelled as she gave up.

Walking back into the dining room, Charley noticed it was crowded for a weekday.

"Charley!" Heather yelled, shoving a guest check into her hand. "This guy is such a dick. He keeps demanding that I remove his steak off the bill because it was too rare. But he ate every bite and never said a word until I gave him the check. You gotta' go fix this or he is going to short me."

Looking irritated Charley ignored Heather's request. She didn't offer any reply as she stood typing into the terminal keyboard. Heather repeated her demand again.

Not even looking over, Charley replied. "I don't know what to tell you Heather. Tell him we only comp returned meals, not finished ones. Tell him he has to pay if he ate it."

Logging off the terminal, she sidestepped around Heather with a swish of her hips, trotting off to the bar. Heading back to the confrontational man's table, Heather blew a frantic sigh.

"God Damn Charley! You're the fucking manager. Learn how to fucking manage already," she mumbled under her breath as she approached the table with a fake smile.

"Here is your check sir. Our policy does not offer refunds on food consumed and not returned."

He looked at the bill but never touched it.

"I'm not paying for that steak. You can either take it off, or I can just deduct it myself."

He began counting out bills as he looked away from her.

"I'm sorry sir but that's our policy."

Heather knew he was going to short her and walk out. She also knew all servers are responsible for their cash out total, period. Someone shorted a server or even worse, walks out. The server has to buy their meal. Servers freak out over walkouts for good reason.

As the man counted out the money, Heather made a dash for Charley, hoping to resolve the bill before he could leave.

"Damn it Charley, he's shorting me and walking out! I told you once to fix it and now I'm about to get stuck with a fifty-six dollar steak bill! You're the manager, so go fix it. Or else don't you dare take it out of my bank at the end of the night."

Charley looked at the ticket, snatching it up in a huff.

Storming over to the man's table, Charley caught him as he was turning to leave.

"Sir, either pay your bill in full or I will copy your license plate number and turn you in as a dine and dash to the cops."

She stood motionless, just staring, her cold black eyes pierced straight into him. After a few brief seconds of silent showdown, the man gave in.

"Jesus! You people are highway robbers!" he yelled as he flung three twenties towards her.

The bills fluttered to the floor as Charley stood staring dead still with her hand on her hip.

"Thank you Sir. Now please leave."

Not even picking up the money, she followed behind him as he walked away. He glanced at her over his shoulder nervously as she followed him all the way to the door.

Watching in silent surprise, Heather grabbed up the bills off the floor and walked over to Charley.

"Wow! Thanks Charley. You're really good at that!"

Charley feigned a smile. "Fuck him. Some people are just assholes, they come here just to rip us off. I hope he doesn't come back again. If he does, send him on his way."

Charley walked back to the bar terminal, leaving Heather relived she didn't have to fork out her own cash for the steak. She even managed to get Heather a meager four dollar tip to boot.

"Maybe Charley is good for something after all," Heather said laughing as she tucked the bills into her bank.

Hearing the commotion, George stopped Charley at the bar. "What was that all about?" he asked, shaking her angrily.

"What the hell George!" Charley replied, yanking her arm from his grip with a scowl.

"I'm sorry," he replied softly, "I can't imagine why you would be causing such a scene with a customer in the middle of service. You don't think fifty people saw you, heard you throw that man out! What if someone important saw that scene? You must have control Charley."

She looked at him with a smirk. "You haven't been in the restaurant biz long have you? Maybe I don't know to be a manager as good as Sandra, but I know one thing after all these years, some people just suck. That guy was trying to steal from us. You want to just let him? Why not comp' every check every time someone bitches? We can't just let asshole customers push us around George."

Her bold response only served to anger him more. "Damn you Charley! I'm not going to let you ruin this over a mere steak!"

Instead of reacting in anger, she looked at him with odd curiosity.

"What are you even talking about? Ruin this?" she asked.

Her dark eyes filled with distrust now.

"Ruin this... Important people... Sell Rob? I don't even understand you sometimes George."

She turned away to the bar terminal in a trot. Punching on the computer keys, she continued looking at the data the computer was compiling. All through the night, she had been checking the total sales. By her manual calculations everything added up perfectly. The mystery was still eluding her.

The sales numbers were rising exactly in the amounts of the guest checks as they were cashed out. That much she was able to figure out by tediously adding the checks on her phone calculator then comparing the total to the computer. It was all in line with The Ship's reported sales so far.

"Everything looks normal..." Charley didn't realize she said it out aloud.

"Normal? What are you talking about?" Jules shot at her from the bar, having overheard Charlie's unconscious remark.

Charley ignored her comment at first.

"Why do you have bar tabs that come off your number without being cashed out?" Charley asked.

Dumping ice, Jules thought about it.

"I do that when a customers starts a tab here, then moves it to a table. Don't you remember? I moved bar tabs to your tables all the time."

Charley nodded in half agreement. "Right. I know," she replied as Jules stuffed beer bottles into the ice.

"Then why did you ask?" Jules shot back.

Charley ignored her as she stepped fast towards the kitchen.

Unknown to Charley, George had been keeping a close eye on her. He suspected her constant addiction to the computer was in an effort to understand the recent surge in sales due to his illegal deposits. Tomorrow morning, he would have to hold off adding his daily influx of cash into the bar terminal as he had been. He didn't like postponing his deposits.

No one except George and his mysterious friend knew The Ship was being used to hide his incoming illegal cash. Early in the morning, before the Ship opened, George was adding the cash to the Ship's sales, ringing in fake orders, with tips included to exactly match his secret deposits.

The VP had stalled earlier due to Rob's sudden departure, which put a crucial part of his plan in jeopardy. Now, even the laundered deposits were stalled thanks to Charley's snooping. He never expected her to notice. She was chosen for her lack of professionalism and experience. George expected she would paint her nails, take long breaks and pay as little attention to the computer as possible.

"What is her damn obsession with these reports?" he wondered. He thought about how to handle her as he watched her disappear back into the office.
Chapter 15

It wasn't a long walk to the floating market. Ellen saw the dock come into view as she followed Bao's directions. Dozens of homemade boats of all shapes and sizes were loosely strung together in a temporary hold to one another on the water. Each one loaded with seemingly different items. Crates of oranges, fruits of all colors and ripe vegetables were stacked high on the decks.

Seafood laden boats leaned, straining under the weight of nets tied to the side, chock full of wiggling fish, overfilled with squirming shrimp and crabs clicking their claws. Straw hat adorned women sat in heavily loaded over-sized canoes, piled high above the rails with melons, onions, green fruit and coconuts. A large post stuck out off the front of each boat. The fruit, vegetable or whatever item the boat was selling was tied on to it, swinging ahead as a form of advertisement.

The water was completely covered. Junk boats two, three and even four stories tall bumped together, creaking on the rolling waves. Every large boat anchored diminishing sizes of smaller boats alongside it, each attached by fraying lines to one another. The boats were tied so tightly together, Ellen imagined a person could easily hop from one boat to the next.

Thick throngs of camera pointing tourists, hurried restaurant cooks and casual shopping locals were making their way out of the market as it disbanded for the day. Ellen wondered how she would ever find a lone Vietnamese man named Hao amongst the crowd. The shoppers swarmed past her back to the city.

Despite the mass exodus, one man sat alone on the dock. Ellen approached him cautiously,

"Hello? Hi there!" she called out to him.

The man looked but didn't speak. A young girl quickly ran to his side. She stood between them, eyeing Ellen.

"Hello... Hi there little girl," Ellen said with smile.

The girl looked down at her feet, then up at Ellen, halfway hiding behind the man's arm.

"You're too late," the girl said softy.

Ellen stepped closer. "Excuse me? Too late you said?"

The girl nodded her head. "Too late. Market is over for today," she replied, pointing behind her back to the boats.

"Really... Wow it's only nine thirty. It really closes early doesn't it?" Ellen asked, coming closer to the shy girl.

"Maybe so, I don't know," the girl replied with a shrug, stepping out from behind the man to get a better look at Ellen.

"My name is Ellen. What's yours?" Ellen asked as she squatted down to the girl's height.

"My name is Sung," the girl replied.

"That's a pretty name for a pretty girl." Ellen said smiling.

The child suddenly looked offended, ducking behind the old man again as she scowled.

"I'm not a pretty girl! Pretty girls are bad!" the girl said angrily, looking as if she was going to cry.

Ellen felt horrible, "What did I say? I only meant you..."

The old man spoke up, his eyes still fixed to the water.

"Her father tells her the pretty girls are the bad girls in the bars. 'Never try to be a pretty girl' he says, or bad things will come to her."

Ellen moved to face him. "I'm so sorry. I didn't realize... we use the word pretty as a good thing."

Smiling, he turned. "So do we. Her father is just an idiot. That's why I keep her here with me as much as I can."

Laughing with relief, Ellen offered the girl a chunk of French chocolate from her bag. Like a hungry lizard's tongue, the girl's tiny fingers reached out and snatched the candy like lightning, moving back behind her grandfather again, peeling away the wrapper.

"Great!" he said loudly. "Now you've done it! She is diabetic!"

Ellen gasped with a hand over her face. "Oh my God! I'm so sorry!"

The old man laughed as he slowly rose off the deck.

"Just kidding. She loves chocolate as much as I love to joke."

Ellen moved her hand from off her face over her heart.

"Geez mister you gave me a scare."

He laughed again. "You're a little late for the market. Opens at about five, it's all finished by this time of day. You'll have to come back tomorrow."

Ellen looked out at the boats as they slowly spread apart.

"Well, I didn't need to buy anything really. I am looking for someone... Mr. Hao."

The old man's eye's widened.

"Your a bit young for an old man like Hao aren't you?"

Ellen laughed. "Well, I need a river boat guide. I was referred to him."

The old man nodded and pointed across to a man fishing off the dock.

"He's a good guide alright, if he's sober enough to see. Had a tour job for the fancy hotels once. Drank too much, people complained. He tipped a boat into the water. Expensive cameras and cell phones were lost. He was fired. He does odd jobs now, for the river people. But mostly he just drinks."

Ellen thanked the old man and waved goodbye to the little girl then walked over to where Hao was sitting in the sun.

"Hao? Hello there! I'm so glad to see you. I am Ellen Addison. I need a guide to the river people, can you help me?"

Hoa looked up with sun squinted eyes under the shade off his traditional conical leaf hat.

"Where do you want to go? What do you want to see?" he asked, waving his hand palm up across the river view.

"I'm trying to find my sister. Maria Mai Lee. Her mother was Mai Sun Lee. Her family owned a grocery store here many years ago. She is... Amerasian."

"Stop!" Hao cried out waving his arms. "A Bui Doi! You ask too much! I can show you the market, or introduce you to popular vendors, maybe even get you good discounts, but a Bui Doi! I will not dare to mention. The people of the river are more Vietnamese than the Vietnamese on land. They do not accept the Boi Doi. I cannot help you."

Ellen couldn't give in to his objections. She was too close to give up now.

"I have cash and I will pay you. Please, you are my only hope. If there was a mixed person on the river, where would they be?"

He shook his head, rubbing his thin whiskers as he looked at the cash Ellen was counting in her hand.

"Any Boi Doi still alive here today would be working for the gangs. Maybe a whore, maybe a drug slave, maybe both."

Ellen knew she had the right man, she could feel it.

"Look, just take me to them. Let me ask about her. If I find her, I ask what they want to let me take her home with me. You say they don't like Amerasians right? Maybe they may let her go with me."

He laughed. "Let her go? After she has been trained and fed for all these years. No! They may sell her, but never give her away."

Ellen didn't care. "Fine, I will buy her if I have to."

Hao threw up both arms in the air.

"Oh, now you're trying to buy a slave! To smuggle away illegally! That's a lifetime in prison! What would you have me do for such a crime?"

Tucking the money away, she paused, not knowing what to say.

"I don't want to cause trouble. I just want to help my sister, wouldn't you help your sister if she was taken by the drug gang?" she asked sadly.

He suddenly sat stiff. "They killed my twelve year old grand daughter and her brother too, just last summer. They were fishing one night in this very boat," he said, pointing to the small craft tied to the dock. "They fished down river towards the sea. I warned them never to venture far from the docks. But they went too close to the cove where the drug boats stay. They saw the gang on the boats loading their drugs, they saw the men onboard up-close, saw their faces. The men shot them before they could leave. I found my boat stuck in the reeds. Their bodies were gone, but all their gear was still there and some blood, nothing taken at all. I knew what happened."

He hung his head, looking forlorn. Ellen stood silent, not knowing how to reply. Hao looked up with a tear in his eye as he took a drink from the bottle between his legs. Ellen moved closer to him. He turned, looking at her with sad eyes.

"I understand your worry, I suppose I could ask," he said.

Ellen perked up. "Please, if you can go and ask. I will wait here if that's better. Just ask if they know her name, I will pay you for that. That is no crime right?"

After a pause, he nodded. "Come, come, you may as well go along. They know me; they know I have no money. They won't even bother to tell me the truth. With you there, they may think some profit can come."

Helping Ellen down the rickety bamboo stairs, the two climbed into his rocking boat. Pulling the cord, he fired the antique engine to life. It chugged away, smoking as they smoothly glided out into the river. Steering far from the junk boat market, Hao pointed the little boat towards the mouth of the big river. He knew well where the drug gangs lived. Heading to a small harbor, where no local dared venture into, he whispered to Ellen.

"When we get in the cove, don't say anything. Let me talk, very dangerous to go near these people. We can be fed to the crocodiles and never have a proper burial. Just stay quiet."

She agreed. For the first time, she wondered how far this unplanned mission would take her, or even if she would ever see home again.

The smooth bus ride had lulled Rob to sleep. Stopping with a hiss at the station, everyone filed off except him. The Unknown Caller was already waiting nearby, eyes glued to the passengers as they exited the bus. There were several Americans on the bus. The Caller had not actually seen Rob in person before. Judging only by a six-year-old passport photo of Rob, he picked out his prey, following his every step, waiting to make his move.

In the bus, Rob awoke as a young boy sweeping with a broom prodded at his shoes. Swiping at his feet, the boy casually urged him on.

"Time to go sir. Ride over."

Rob woke up, realizing he was alone except for the ambitious cleaning boy.

"Wow! That trip really wiped me out. Sorry kid, I'm leaving now, don't worry."

A hapless tourist resembling Rob came off the bus. As he stopped to make a call, fishing his pockets for his phone, he sat his bag down. Seeing no one else depart, The Caller crept up from behind, snatching the bag and the man's arm at the same time.

"What the hell!" the terrified tourist cried out.

His mouth was quickly hushed with a strong hand as he was drug towards the running Fiat. Pure terror chilled his blood as the Caller shoved him into the running car.

Stepping off the bus just in time to catch the scene, Rob watched in horror as the kidnapping unfolded. He saw the Caller's face as he looked around to see if anyone noticed the crime.

"Jesus someone should call the cops," Rob thought as he looked around at the other faces of the dissipating crowd.

No one noticed, nor seemed to care. Running towards the car, Rob was ready to help. Before he could reach the door, it flew open as the tourist was shoved out into the street. His bag was tossed out on the road behind him as the Fiat sped off with a squeal. Helping the shaken tourist up, Rob handed him his backpack.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

The man was frazzled. "Yeah. I guess," he replied, patting himself over.

"What the hell happened?" Rob asked, watching the Fiat dart away through the traffic.

"I don't know. I was just standing there, and that guy came at me from behind. I didn't even see him. He grabbed me and shoved me into his car. He took my passport, then, he looked at it and pushed me out. I guess he stole it."

Rob looked around on the street. He pointed to the passport fluttering in the road. The tourist ran to retrieve it just before a swarm of scooters passed by.

"Did you get a look at the guy?" Rob asked as the tourist jogged back, waving the little blue book.

"Not really, I know he wasn't Asian... Middle Eastern I think. He had thick hairy hands, and big gold rings on his fingers. I do remember that... But his face... I don't know."

Rob looked around nervously. "Yeah I saw him too. He was Middle Eastern I think. Well, you seem to be okay. Just have to be more careful I guess. Be glad you didn't get robbed."

The tourist nodded in agreement. Thanking Rob, he jogged away to the safety of the nearby market.

Rob wasn't sure why, but the whole incident made him strangely curious.

"Kidnapped on a busy street, then pushed out seconds later, that was weird. It could have easily been me. If I got off that bus a thirty seconds sooner, it may have well been me."

He kept thinking about the odd event as he walked from the bus station.

Crossing the street, Rob spotted the Fiat again, just for an instant before it turned down a tiny alley.

"Was that the? Whoa, I think that bastard is back," he said to himself, intentionally dodging across the street again, putting as much crowd between him and the car as possible. "Maybe I'm paranoid, but if that is the same guy I gotta' get out of site."

Jogging fast, Rob dashed down one street then the next, turning left then right he ran through back alleys, past toppled trashcans and scurrying stray cats. Feeling safer in the alley, he peeked out into the street. With no Fiat in sight, he ducked into a cafe.

"I must be going crazy. I've only been here five minutes and now I have a kidnapper chasing me." He felt silly as a smiling waitress came over.

"Hungry? Thirsty, or both?" she giggled.

"Thirsty for sure," Rob replied, nearly out of breath.

"You want cold beer? We have many kinds..."

He shook his head. "No... no beer. Maybe a cold tea, something cold," he replied, catching his breath.

"Sure. We have iced tea and tea mixed with coffee."

Rob looked appalled. "Really, cold tea mixed with coffee?"

The waitress nodded. "You like some?"

He had never heard of such a thing.

"I don't think so... just the tea please. And a menu, maybe I will eat now, since I'm here I may as well eat."

Smiling, she thanked him.

In a quick minute she came back with a large glass of cold tea. Sitting it down, she pointed to the menu.

"You want to order food?"

Looking at the menu, he saw it was all in Vietnamese.

"I take it this isn't exactly a tourist spot. Thing is... I can't read the menu. Tell me, what is your specialty?" he asked curiously.

"We have Cong Cakes, Rice noodle with pork skin and Hot Pot, all very good, very popular."

Rob thought it over, still shaken from the Fiat.

"Uhm... What's in the Hot Pot?"

She pointed at a sign on the wall.

"Today is, goat scrotum, chicken feet and..."

He stopped her there. "Um... What is in the noodles?"

She pointed again. "Rice noodle with vegetable, and crispy fried pork skin."

Even before he was a Chef, Rob was always adventurous with food. "Goat Scrotum?" he thought with a sour face. "If there was nothing else to eat... maybe."

Something he ate in Tokyo had him squatting in the plane's bathroom for hours. Adventurous as he was, his still quivering innards quickly dismissed any notion of a culinary adventure that involved eating anything's scrotum.

Noodles beat out the goat scrotum without a second thought. Kidding the waitress, Rob ordered.

"As much as I do love a good old fashioned scrotum, I will have to politely pass on the specialty. Crispy Pork Rice Noodle it is."

It seemed his sarcastic joke was wasted on the waitress. She didn't bat an eye or even smile at the remark. As handed her the menu back, she simply gave him a nod as she disappeared.

Sipping the tea, he studied the sights of Can Tho. All the while watching nervously for the Black Fiat. This city was much different than Tokyo or Ho Chi Minh. It was much smaller, cleaner, festive and more vibrant. The sights, sounds and smells of the city gave him a good feeling. Something positive was bound to come his way here. The pleasing vibes settled him into a more relaxed rhythm.

In the back of Rob's mind the fear that followed the kidnapping scene kept his eyes scanning the cars in search of the Fiat. In the front of his mind, he was laughing at himself for being so paranoid. Nearly laughing out loud, he pictured himself running down the alleys earlier. Ducking and diving for his life as if being chased by angry cops, hot on his tail as he fled some desperate armed robbery gone wrong.

"Jesus, I have to relax," he said in a whisper. Sighing, he leaned his head back against the bamboo chair, running fingers through his hair with both hands.

Rubbing his face, he sat upright just as the big bowl of noodles hit the table. Taking chopsticks, he fished out tangled strands of translucent rice noodles from the steaming broth. Strips of scallions, carrot, greens and spicy peppers were twisted up in the tangle. On top of it all, a heaping pile of thinly sliced golden pork skin, crisp in contrast to the soothing soup and silky noodles. Beside the bowl, the waitress set a platter of pickled mustard greens, crushed hot pepper paste, three dark chili sauces and a brightly colored fruit sauce that eased the burn from the peppers with a cleansing sweet citrus aftertaste.

The intensity and boldness of the amazing dish had Rob wishing he could just wander the city, searching for the next awesome bite of something so wonderful and new. Even as he found himself caught up in the newfound love of the noodle bowl, he suddenly realized how much time he was blissfully slurping away. The cafe had stalled his search for Ellen. But the distraction was divine.

His time running shorter, Rob paid the waitress a mere three dollars, left a three dollar tip and began walking back out into the city. Ellen was somewhere out there. The hotel search needed to be finished, then...

"Then what?" Rob wondered, sitting on a bench. "What if she never checked in anywhere here and already moved on to another town or village? Or stayed one night and checked out already?"

He had just missed her in Ho Chi Minh. Was he too late again in arriving at Can Tho? He hoped she would still be near. If not, he may never find out her next direction.
Chapter 16

Hao goosed the smoky engine of the little boat several times fast, announcing himself as he turned into the cove. He knew the protocol on the river. When approaching a gang area, you let them know you are coming well in advance. Surprise visitors are dealt with in a hostile manner. The old man needed every courtesy he could muster to glide in, and then get back out of this dangerous cove.

This gang was the transport branch of a local dealer network, the final export phase of a billion-dollar Asian heroin cartel. The gang soldiers were responsible for getting the drugs off land to the sea. Running old junks disguised to look like market peddler boats, they were actually chockfull of thousands of pounds of pure heroine.

Off-loading the old wooden junks, the gang passed up bale after bale of high-grade smack onto the waiting freighters in the ocean just a few hundred yards from the Vietnam coastline. From there, the drug load made it's way across the world. The only thing the gang cared about was getting the loads onto the junk from the land, then to the ship at sea, with no interruptions and zero witnesses.

The old man knew bringing anyone, especially an American, into their lair was a dangerous deal. He only took on the cause because with Ellen's pay Hao may end up with enough food & drink money for a month, maybe longer. Not to mention, the loss of his grandchildren caused him to sympathize with her. The boat's bow was pointed straight into the cove as he revved the little engine several more times, just to be sure, before nosing into the cove entrance.

Ellen sat holding her breath in scared silence. She noticed several men on the shore at the cove's mouth. They sat together in pairs, each toting nasty looking machine guns. She watched their faces as Hao's tiny boat eased into the cove. They seemed to recognize him, as no one stirred from their places, they simply watched as the boat slid by. Ellen knew as they drifted deeper into the cove, this was a place you could only leave if they decided you could leave. Her fear grew with every passing ripple.

Pulling alongside a big wooden three-story junk, the old man waved casually at a stoic faced man watching from the deck. Bumping against the rails, Hao tied his line onto the junk. Turning to Ellen, he whispered.

"You stay here, stay quiet. Look down, don't watch them, keep still, I will be back."

Pulling himself up a bamboo ladder, he left Ellen alone in the rocking boat. Greeting the stoic man, he gestured as he spoke, talking about the rain and the fishing. Finally, he pointed to Ellen and explained her mission. She heard him say "Addison" but that was all she could make out.

All the while, a particular menacing looking guard in a hooded garb stood silently watching from high above. Perched at the top of the junk, he pointed his gun towards Hao's boat. The stoic man listened to Hao. When Hao spoke the names Maria and Mai Sun Lee the man suddenly frowned. With a sharp tone, he waved the old man away with angry words, pointing to the river as if to say, "Get out of here, go away!" Ellen tried to watch, stealing glances out of the corner of her eye.

Unexpectedly, a woman burst out of the junk's cabin door. Screaming in Vietnamese, she yelled at the angry man. Ellen was shocked to hear her say two words she understood clearly... "Marco Addison." Ellen couldn't help herself. She shot up, rocking the boat. Nearly tipping it, she fell back to her knees trying to keep her balance and stay out of the water. The crew laughed loudly. Grabbing the sides with both hands, she slowly stood back up.

"Miss! Miss! Marco Addison. Do you know that name?" Ellen asked.

The woman came down to the railing, yelling at Hao with gestures and arms waving. Again the woman spoke a word Ellen understood, "Maria." The angry man listened then mumbled something to Hao. As Hao tried to explain, the man turned away with a shout, pulling the woman with him.

Leaning over the railing close to Ellen, Hao spoke as he trudged down the ladder. "She says she is Maria's mother. She did know your father. She says her daughter is dead now and that there is nothing to see here, nothing to come back here for anymore. She says, 'You must leave. Go back where you came from and leave the past in the past.' She is very angry. I think we should go now."

The old woman dashed back into the cabin. Hao feared she too was getting a weapon.

Taking off his big round hat, Hao bowed to the angry man. Dropping into the boat, he unknotted the rope from the junk. The silent hooded sniper moved closer, quickly striding the rooftop for a better vantage point. Hao glanced up; worried he would fire down on them at any second.

Overwhelmed with emotion, Ellen's anxious nerves were fraying. Despite her nerves, she couldn't leave without trying again. Yelling out as Hao tried to start the engine, Ellen cried out a final plea of hope.

"Mai Sun Lee! Marco, he did love you! I came here to find your daughter... To bring her back with me to America. I am sorry for your pain and loss. I will go, but I want you know, in his dying words, he spoke of you, and his daughter, Maria Sun Lee."

Taking aim at their craft, the hooded guard steadied his gun on Ellen. He paused as he looked to the door where Mai Sun Lee was now standing. Shooting the hooded garbed guard a shake of her head, Mai Lee ran down to the decking in a trot. Down the bamboo stairs and across the deck she ran towards Ellen. Waving at the hooded guard, her motion caused him to lower his rifle. Screaming in Vietnamese she ran closer, shouting louder, filled with fury and shaking her fists.

Stopping at the railing of the junk, leaning over the edge, she cursed directly at Ellen, spitting towards her into the water. Shaking her fist with one hand, her other hand casually dropped a balled wad of paper into the boat. Ellen saw it fall, looking up at her in shock. In that moment, she could see in the woman's eyes, the kindness and fear that contrasted the anger on her face. Mai Lee's eyes glanced at the paper furtively then back to Ellen, all the while she continued screaming, her eyes told Ellen the paper was important.

As the engine fired, Hao noticed Ellen quickly kick the note under the boat seat. Before anyone else spotted the paper, he quickly spun the nose of the boat around and twisted the throttle on full. The bow rose as their speed increased, carrying them out of the cove and into the river. Mai Lee continued cursing franticly. The engine's drone slowly drowned her angry yells out as they sped away.

After the cove faded out of sight behind them, Ellen unfolded the crumpled paper. It was a note written in Vietnamese. Showing it to Hao, he glanced at it. Snatching it from Ellen's hand, he read it. His eyes went wide. Handing it back, he looked dead forward, steering the boat, looking back towards the cove in silence. He kept his speed at maximum all the way back to the dock.

Shutting off the engine, he spoke quiet, as if someone could hear.

"She says, to meet her at the tank on the river, tonight at midnight."

Ellen's pulse raced. "Then Maria may still be alive! You will take me to the tank? What is the tank anyway?"

Looking towards the mouth of the river, he pointed as he spoke.

"The old American army tank. It was drowned trying to cross the river in the monsoon mud. The Army just left it there. Even after all these years, the mighty river still cannot wash it away. People of the water use it as a landmark. Many years of brush and limbs have piled against it. It is deep in gang territory. The river is the only way to it. There are trails but all are very confusing and dangerous. Many traps along the way."

His saddened face made Ellen concerned. "You will go with me?" she asked.

Too embarrassed to look up, he hung his head.

"No, I cannot. I am too old. Going that deep into the gang's land, late at night, I cannot take the chance. Besides, I am too afraid."

She patted him on the arm.

"It's okay. You are right. It's too much to ask anyone. You have done so much already. I will find another way to get there."

Shooting her a look, the old man raised his eyebrows.

"Can you drive the boat? If so, you can use it. I can show you how to go, it's very easy. You can't miss the tank. Full moon tonight, you will see it sticking it's big trunk up out over the river."

Ellen shrugged. "I guess I can learn, it looks easy enough."

Sliding over, Hao swapped places and helped Ellen pilot the boat around for practice. After showing her how to start the engine, and work the choke and controls, she felt confident she could run the little boat alone.

Climbing onto the shore, she hugged Hao and offered him three hundred dollar bills.

"Oh Miss Ellen! That is far too much money for my time. The boat uses very little fuel. I cannot take..."

She pressed her fingers against her top lip. "Shh. You do deserve it. You risked so much today to help me. You are the reason I have found Mai Lee, finding Maria is very important to me. You take it, you earned it. I am very thankful for your help, and your boat."

With a nod, he bowed. "Very many thanks Miss Ellen. I wish you the best fortune tonight. I will meet you here at the boat. It will take nearly an hour to get to the tank. It is farther towards the sea than we went today. Be here at ten thirty, we will go over the controls again, maybe I even give you a kiss for good luck!" Laughing hard, Hao slapped his knees doubling over.

Ellen stood smiling. "I need all the good luck I can get."

She hugged him before walking back to the Nan Mon. Her steps were lightened with elation as she strolled along the waterfront. Her instincts told her this was the real deal. Mai Lee must know where Maria was. The terrible tales of the poor mixed race kids sold, stolen and killed had filled her with doubt and fear. But Maria's mother knew something she was keeping secret from the gang, something she wanted to share with Ellen but was afraid to say in their presence.

"Why else would she take such a risk meeting me?" she thought.

She hoped Maria was still out there somewhere, alive, and totally unaware Ellen was coming to her rescue. In a few short hours she would find out for certain.
Chapter 17

In his search for Ellen, Rob's calls amounted to nothing more than wasted cell minutes. Soon he would run out of minutes all together. Stowing the phone, he decided to search in person. Not a single call had led to a lead. There was no Ellen Addison registered anywhere he had checked so far. The remaining hotels were in a row along the waterfront. Walking through the hot streets he came to the first on the list. Stepping in to the chilling lobby, the cool air relieved him.

"Excuse me. Is there an Ellen Addison registered here?" he asked the desk clerk.

The clerk smiled as he looked up. Typing his keyboard, he shook his head. "No Addison with us."

Rob thanked him, pausing in the lobby to allow the frigid air to cool him briefly before continuing on into the hot streets.

Stepping out into the scorching heat, the street was lined with cabs. Walking through the crowd, he worried his slow pace could take until nightfall to check all the hotels left on the list. Hopping in the closest cab, he closed the door, shutting out the noise from the street.

"I have a list of hotels here. I want to stop at them all just for a minute. Can you get me to them quickly?"

The driver took the list. "Sure sure. I know them all," he replied.

Rob explained. "I am looking for a friend. She could be at any of these. I may have to check them all. It could take all night."

The driver shrugged. "You the boss! We go now."

Speeding off into the traffic with a screech, the driver squealed and skidded, cutting short corners, nearly sliding his little car around the tight turns of the crowded city streets. Snaking their way along the waterfront, Rob held fast to the door pull. Swerving and weaving between slow ancient donkey carts laden with produce, the cab whisked through the traffic. Darting past scooters that appeared from any direction without warning, seemingly out of thin air, the cab driver made good time. Riding in the speedy cab, Rob felt confident he could check every hotel before dark. If Ellen was still in Can Tho, he felt he still had a chance to find her.

There were thirteen hotels left on the list. Rob explained to the driver he would walk from the first to the second to save time, as they were nearly next door to each other.

"Drop me at The Kin Long, then meet me at the Kim Lan in two minutes."

The driver smiled wide and nodded. "Good luck mister, I wait for you."

The cabbie waved out the window as he sped off. Rob knew he would likely never see the guy again. Nevertheless, the next two hotels were so close to each other, it made sense to walk.

Walking into the first hotel, he dashed to the lobby asking for Ellen. He was given the same disappointing answer. "No Ellen Addison."

Crossing the mid-stream traffic, Rob asked about Ellen at the next hotel, but received the same reply. After leaving the Kim Lan, he surprisingly found the smiling cabbie waiting outside. For the next several hours, they dashed from block to block, stopping at each hotel on the list. None produced a single lead.

Walking into the lobby of the next hotel, Rob stopped to buy a fruit drink from a sidewalk vendor. It was so cold his throat clamped tight around his windpipe. Barely breathing, he nearly choked from the intensity of the freeze. His coarse voice strained to ask the desk clerk about Ellen.

Again he was told. "No Addison."

Jumping back in the cab, he sat silent for a moment.

"Where to now boss?" the cabbie asked.

Rob pointed ahead as he read the list.

The cabbie throttled into the street, nearly hitting another cab. The drivers never exchanged foul gestures, honked horns or even shot one another so much as a rude glance as they nearly touched. Rob watched intently as the drivers simply raced ahead, nosing their way into traffic, seamlessly zipping into place with the other vehicles.

Being jostled in the seat with no control as the cab darted and swerved twisted Rob's nerves. Holding tight to the door pull, he somehow felt a growing confidence towards his speedy driver. He showed up at the meeting point as asked. That was an impressive surprise. Rob appreciated his casual calm as he one handed the steering wheel through the madness.

The glistening water stole his attention as they made their way along the river to the next hotel. The view along the waterfront left Rob silently awestruck. The seductive scenery lifted his spirit. His mind raced with thoughts of investigating the food, the people and this exotic culture. The notion of sampling a different cafe or food stand for every meal filled his mind with culinary curiosity.

Passing the brightly colored junk boats loaded with high piles of vine-ripened fruit and vegetables, the chef instincts in him quickened his pulse.

"It's amazing," he said staring at the floating market boats.

The cabbie pointed to the water. "All these boats come together, plus many more, every morning just before daybreak. Any food you wish to buy is there."

Rob wanted to see it all, taste it all, and learn to cook it in their traditional methods. He was fascinated with traditional cooking. The temporary distraction didn't last long. He remembered that Ellen was out there somewhere, alone, and facing who knows what danger.

Pulling into a crowded area of the waterfront, the cabbie screeched to a fast stop.

"Phoung Dong Hotel! Very good girls here, very young, very beautiful."

Rob shot him a laugh as he jumped out onto the sidewalk.

"Hello. Good day!" the counter man said as Rob walked to the clerk's desk.

"Hi I am looking for a guest here, Ellen Addison," Rob said.

The clerk frowned... "Sorry, no Addison here."

Rob waved, thanking him as turned to run back to the cab.

"Mister! Mister Wait!" the clerk called out.

Rob turned with anxious exhilaration. "Was this it? Did he find her at last?" he wondered, as he spun back towards the counter.

"Mister are you looking for a girl?" the clerk asked, smiling.

Rob nodded in anticipation.

"We have many girls you would like. Just look and see!"

The clerk snapped his fingers and three young teenage girls scrambled to the lobby. The girls stood still side-by-side, looking down as the man pointed to them.

"You see! Very nice girls. Just sixty dollars for a room and the girl of your choice, forty dollars more for two of the three. Your choice."

Rob stood in shock. As he looked at the barely teenage girls, he was saddened by the thought that he could buy these poor innocent children and do with them anything he pleased. The thought of it made him grow angry.

"They are barely thirteen... They never had a chance to even grow up," he said to himself, looking at the shy faces of the nervous girls.

"Thanks anyway buddy. I am looking for a friend, not a little twelve year old girl that should be in school, or playing with her friends."

Staring at the smiling faced clerk, he grew angrier. Turning to leave, he suddenly spun back to the clerk.

"I hope you get your payback someday when the dad or brother of one of these girls comes in and blasts you into a coma, or kills you. This is not a hotel; this is a God Damn child whorehouse! Where I come from, we call people like you piece of shit pedophile pimps! In America, we'd lock you away for a lifetime for using those children for sex. In our prisons, even the meanest criminals hate pedophiles like you too. They would screw you like you have never imagined, then break your fucking neck. Fuck you... and fuck your hotel too. I should burn it to the ground..."

Rob stood glaring at the clerk in a daring stare. The clerk waved the girls away, casually looking back to his computer without saying a word, as if the scene never happened.

Slamming the cab door, Rob sped off angry to the next hotel on the list.

"I see what you mean about the young girls," he said to the driver.

"I told you! Many nice girls there. I can show you many more hotels with nice girls too."

Rob was shocked. "How many hotels have girls that young for sale?"

The cabbie smiled. "Very many. I know all the bars and massage parlors too! You can find any girls you like, all very young... Very young and very beautiful. You can have boys as well if you like."

Disgusted, Rob realized it was a popular pastime here to enslave the weaker sex, and the weak in general. Vietnam was a beautiful place with amazing landscapes and addicting food, yet behind the beauty resided the ugly dark-side of wide spread prostitution rings, drug trafficking and human slavery. Even in modern times, some aspects of the culture here were still firmly rooted in the past, not likely to change due to American disgust neither.

"Just beneath the surface of the mud... There's more mud here," Rob said under his breath as they sped away.

The sun was hanging low over the glittering water by the time the cab pulled into the next district with the remaining hotels on the list. Stopping at the Spring Hotel, Rob handed the driver another twenty.

"Thanks man. It's been, well... interesting to say the least. I will go it alone from here. Here's an extra ten for the trouble."

The cabbie smiled as he held the money up, shaking it with glee like a game show prizewinner. As Rob dashed to the sidewalk, the driver squealed away. Facing the waterfront, he could see his next destination, the Viet Phuc Hotel. It would be a short walk from there to the last name on the list, The Nam Mon.

Walking South from the Viet Phuc, Rob found no sign of Ellen there as he made his way to the last hotel. Discouraged, he walked along the waterfront to the Nam Mon, slower this time. The spring had left his step. A saddening feeling crept into his mind.

"This is it, the last name on the list. I've looked in every other hotel in Can Tho, and I still have nothing. I may never find her after all."

Walking slowly, his faith and enthusiasm had drained from him entirely. Finally, he came to the last name on the list. The Nam Mon Budget Design Hotel. Looking at the front of the building, he felt something special about the quaint little hotel. Much smaller than the others, it shined with a matchbox charm that oozed character.

Rob didn't notice the black Fiat parked in an alley outside the Nam Mon. The Unknown Caller sat inside behind the tinted windows waiting for Rob to arrive. The Caller had found Ellen's hotel hours earlier. He had been sitting out front since the morning, waiting for Rob to arrive. The Caller spotted Rob walking along the waterfront from a block away. He watched, waiting for Rob to come closer to the car. After the earlier mix up, he needed to be certain about Rob's identity, then he could make the snatch.

The Caller tucked down in his seat as Rob drew nearer. Studying the photo, he was certain this was his man. The Caller grabbed the door handle, ready to spring when Rob passed by. Suddenly a speeding cab crashed a scooter to the street in a small explosion of shattering plastic. The Caller paused his attack as a traffic cop dashed over, dragging a limp body from the scene. No sooner had the path been cleared, cars whizzed by over the broken glass and shiny shards. The Caller strained to see where Rob was now... He saw him stepping into the hotel.

"Damn! This cook has such luck!" he said with clenched fists as he sat watching Rob walk into the lobby.

The frustrated Caller texted George as he kept an eye on Rob through the window of the Nam Mon.

"Anderson located. Will take possession shortly. Leaving Vietnam tonight."

The Caller phoned his rented seaplane, making certain it would be ready to whisk them away immediately after his hands were on his prey. George read the message with a sigh of relief. Shortly, Rob would be in the air on his way back to him, in plenty of time for the crucial Saturday dinner meeting.

Pulling the hotel door handle. Rob stepped to the clerk; certain it was another dead end.

"Ellen Addison please."

Before the clerk could answer, he realized he had never asked that way before, all along the search he found he had developed routine questions for the clerks, but this time he just asked for her as if he expected her to be there.

"I'm sorry we do not give out guest names, very good security here you see," the clerk replied.

Rob couldn't believe it. The last hotel on the list, and the clerk was refusing to cooperate. Looking around, he had felt a good feeling about this place. Not to mention, he was fading fast from his all day adventure. Scanning the simple but clean lobby, he decided he might as well get a room for himself and wait. He wanted to wait and see if Ellen was at this hotel or nearby. It was his last hope, plus he liked the idea of the security. Looking back at the pretty girl manning the desk, he wondered. "Was this another brothel disguised as a hotel?"

"Do you have girls here?" Rob asked with wink.

The clerk looked annoyed, shaking her head, she frowned. "No girls here. Maybe try the bar on the corner."

Sighing with relief, Rob smiled. "Great! I'm not really looking for girls; I just don't want to stay in a whorehouse. So I'd like a room then, whatever is cheapest," he replied quickly.

The clerk perked up. "Very good sir. Our rooms are very clean. Room three, here is your key."

Wandering to the small bar, he decided to get a drink. Taking a seat nearby the entrance afforded him a view of the lobby doors. His body wanted to rest but his mind was racing with possibilities.

"I should just wait here for awhile, Ellen could walk through those very doors at any minute," he thought as he peered out the glass.

The Caller waited anxiously outside in the black Fiat. The moment Rob came back out into the open, he would be ready.
Chapter 18

Miguel worked in high gear to keep pace as the diners flowed onto The Ship. The weekday shift was churning out dishes at weekend numbers. By seven, every table was full. Plus the bar was stacked with customers waiting for tables. On top of the entree orders, a constant flow of appetizer orders flooded the kitchen destined for the hungry bar crowd.

The lobby was jammed with anxious faces. People peered into the dining room, scanning for tables being vacated. Charley was forced to give up on her mystery sales quest and actually work tables. Hurried servers kept coming up to her, tracking her down wherever she went asking for check corrections and manager voids. Her nerves were quickly frazzled.

Miguel was manning the flaming grill. Beside Miguel, Micah clanged pans as he shook sizzling skillets with both hands in an effort to keep up.

"This is fucking brutal!" Micah yelled as he plated seven dishes one after the other.

Handing the plates to the pass, he turned back to his sauté pans as quickly as he could. Miguel stepped away from the grill, scanning the fluttering yellow tickets, matching them with entrees. Pushing the plates to the waiting servers, Miguel feigned a laugh as he slapped Micah on the back.

"We can do eet. Just keep the pace, don't rush, don't go slow. That's what Chef always says. Just go at your best pace, perfection trumps speed every time."

Micah stopped working his pans to glance at the fluttering row of tickets, squinting to read the orders, trying to gauge if he was falling behind.

Miguel noticed. "Amigo! You just cook what I call out. Don't read the tickets. Eets like looking down from a tall building, it will only scare you. Just cook what I call out... Next order... Two filet rare, one cod, one shrimp... I got dees steaks working."

Miguel began plating another order as Charley stomped up to the line.

"Where are my ribs and filet for twenty-eight?" she asked Miguel with an angry scowl.

Scanning the tickets, he read them one by one. Studying the entire row, he found no such ticket.

"I don't have a twenty-eight," he replied.

Charley was furious as she screamed back at him.

"What the hell Miguel! Table twenty-eight, they ordered over an hour ago!"

Miguel looked again, "No ticket for twenty-eight Miss Charley," he replied with a shrug as he turned back to the grill.

Charley shot around the line; looking at the tickets on the cook's side, she realized Miguel was right. No ticket for table twenty-eight was to be found.

"Son of a bitch!" Charley yelled storming out.

At the terminal, she pulled up her guest checks; no table twenty-eight was there either. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she suddenly realized she forgot to ring it in. She was in the process when Heather interrupted, demanding a correction on a ticket. In the pressure and confusion, after dealing with Heather, Charley forgot why she came to the terminal in the first place and walked away, neglecting to enter her table's order.

Flying back to the kitchen, Charley pulled the newly printed ticket off the line printer, pushing it to the front of the orders.

Miguel noticed and called her out. "Hey hey! You can't do that! New tickets go at the end, you know that."

As he pulled the ticket, putting it at the end of the row. Charley stood furious.

"Miguel! Put that damn ticket back in front and get it working or so help me I will kick your ass out of here this instant!"

Shrugging, Miguel refused. Ignoring her, he continued working on the orders at hand. Worried about her threat, he turned to face her, trying to explain.

"You fuck up the whole system moving tickets Charley. You can't do that, eets too busy. Do you want the whole line to crash? I would do eet for you, if eet were slower, but not now. We are too beesy."

She stood staring at him. Though he didn't look at her, Miguel could feel her hot glare and called back to Micah.

"One rib and medium porterhouse on the fly, but don't slow down the other orders, just put eet on when you can."

Miguel smiled at Charley as he worked his grill again.

"There you go Miss fancy pants. Your order ees working. Next time just ask me, don't ever mess with my tickets, you will crash the whole damn line."

Remembering Ellen's tactics, Charley walked back out to the forgotten table with salads and bread. She could see from twenty feet away her hungry diners were past impatient. They had been sitting empty handed for forty minutes, watching others eat and drink while they sat forgotten, growing angrier by the minute.

Charley sat the salads down. "I will be right back with refills for your drinks."

The man at the table spoke up with a huff. "I could have gone to the store, bought ingredients, drove home and cooked our damn food in less time than these salads took. Are you going to bring us our food tonight or should we come back tomorrow and get it? And what about our drinks? Will they take an hour as well?"

Charley shot him a sarcastic smile. "I will be right back with them sir. We are very busy, I apologize for your wait."

Standing at the bar as she waited for the drinks, Jules was too busy to notice her.

"Jules! I need those drinks like now!"

Jules shot her a glance as she continued pouring drinks with both hands into a row of glasses.

"Charley do you see I have both hands full or what?" she shot back.

Charley stood angered. "Forget it! I will make them myself."

Running behind the bar, she poured the drinks as best she imagined they should be mixed, inconsiderately leaving her bottles on the bar top as she trotted off to the table.

Handing the lady her vodka-cranberry, the woman eagerly reached for it the second it left Charley's hand. "Your entrees are coming very soon. Our popularity has caused us to be seated to over-capacity. We are overrun with orders. I pushed your order to the front of the line. It's the best I can do right now. It will be worth the wait though, I assure you."

The man shrugged as his wife sighed. Charley was poised to walk away, feeling the table was under control, even if far from perfect.

"Whew!" The woman said, covering her mouth after she nearly spewed the drink out. "My god! This is pure liquor! I can't drink that."

Charley reached for it but the husband grabbed it first.

"Just bring us a glass of cranberry. We will mix it in, as she likes it. That should be faster."

Charley left the drink, walking away to fetch the cranberry. She was running hot in a mix of anger, aggravation, self-doubt, and now, embarrassment.

Behind the line, just as Miguel predicted, pushing Charley's order to the front was having bad effects. Micah needed the grill space covered by her full rib rack and large steak to finish other waiting orders. Several multi entrée tickets were set back now. Delayed even for three or four minutes meant the fish, shrimp and veggies on those orders would come up before the grilled item was ready. Perfectly cooked food left to wilt in the window. Miguel wiped his head with a towel, the sounds of Rob cursing his very birth over the dying food in the window echoed in his ears. He knew they were slipping, but salvation was nowhere in sight.

The problem gathered momentum as Miguel heard another order spewing out of the printer... twelve full rib racks... that would nearly cover the entire grill. They had to bust out the remaining orders fast and clean the slate before firing that order. It would have been doable if the line window wasn't now stacked with nearly completed orders, all waiting for their grilled item to be sent with it. Quickly testing the sizzling meat, desperately hoping to find one just barely done enough to serve, Miguel felt his nerves begin to fray. He knew he was rushing it now, pushing the food out before it was properly finished. He also knew that was a sin, unforgivable in Rob's presence. Tonight, it would have to do.

Pacing on the patio, George was watching through the glass. He couldn't hear, but he understood the service was falling apart by the body language and looks on the faces inside. He knew he could never impress his buyers without Rob at the helm in the kitchen.

"This place is disintegrating into chaos," he thought. "I simply have to have Anderson here by Saturday or this whole plan will dissolve. Look at these servers... some are ready to cry."

Puffing a cigar, he studied the terrible scene. "This Ellen, I need a professional such as her here as well. The staff always speaks of her with the highest regard. If only I had a server with her talents for the dinner, I could rest assured everything would go off without incident."

Through the sandwiched bar crowd, suddenly George noticed a familiar face. It was Rich, the VP's right hand man.

"This is only Wednesday. What the hell is he doing here? I don't want him seeing this mess. He's supposed to come this weekend," George thought as he fought the urge to greet him, perhaps buy him a drink.

"Too pushy," he thought. "I need to appear cool, calm, enthusiastic. Assure him long waits equaled a well-stocked reservation book and massive profits. Ignore him as long as possible, without being rude. Let him believe I am living well with my floating goldmine."

George walked over to the far side of the bar. Waving Jules over, he instructed her to keep a close eye on Rich's drink, smile at him, wink at him, whatever it took, make him feel happy to be here.

"Sure George! Hey... I have an idea!" she replied, waving him closer.

George leaned in to listen.

"If you want... I can go give him a blowjob on the patio. I'm pretty good at blowjobs you know!" she said sarcastically, laughing as she went back to her drink orders.

Jules tossed ice into a row of glasses as George scowled, pointing a waving finger towards her, as if to say, "Don't mess with me Jules." Shaking her head, she laughed as she went on with her rapid pace refilling drafts with one hand while pouring cocktails with the other.

"Who the hell does he think he is? I'm nice to everyone... especially the ones that tip," she thought to herself as the foam slid over the rim of her draft beer glass.

Walking back into the dining room, George avoided Rich's sight. Near the kitchen, he was shaken as the eyes of many diners suddenly turned to the kitchen as loud yelling was heard across the room. Running through the swinging doors, George grabbed a server as she was in mid-swing, reaching out to slap Armando.

"Silence!" he grunted through his teeth at her. "What the hell is going on here? We can hear you all across the dining room!"

Miguel spoke up first. "Eets' Kathy, she was a crying about her food. She ees waiting on a well-done steak, because of Charley the line ees set back bad. She is a ready to cry or something man. Armando only pinched her butt to break the tension. You know, just to lighten the mood right? She freaked, out and tried to hit him. She just needs to relax, he don't mean anything by eet."

Kathy was a part time server. Only being on The Ship a month she didn't consider herself close enough with any of the crew to be grabbed on the ass. An avid soccer player, her instincts were to throw an elbow first and worry about the penalty later. She stood staring at Armando as he giggled at her from the safety of his dish room. The crew laughed.

George wasn't amused. "I don't care who grabs whom, or where! Keep it quiet in here, orderly. Do what you must to get the food out faster. Why can't that dishwasher help cook?"

Miguel looked puzzled. "Uh... I dunno', because he ees the dishwasher I guess. He never cook here before."

Armando rushed to the pass in an instant. "Sí sí! I can cook! I can cook something. Maybe not the steaks but I can cook the chicken! The chicken... and the shrimps!"

Micah moved over, sliding Army into position at his station. Explaining the basics as he went along, he showed Armando how to begin the next order. Miguel kept an eye on the steak temperatures, teaching Army the technique as he tested them for doneness.

Satisfied with the crew's reaction to his show of superiority, George walked back to dining room with confidence renewed. His focus was on gauging; even manipulating if possible what Rich saw and heard tonight. He knew if Rich left The Ship happy, drunk and hopefully with a cute young server or hostess on his arm it would mean a bargaining position for George. To what extent, would depend on the deeds Rich indulged in tonight.

Across the room, George saw a group of servers circled around Charley, arguing loudly. Angry, George interrupted, stopping the yelling instantly.

"Ladies! Silence! Speak quietly so that the people can't hear you. Do I have to tell everyone here that?"

They all stood quiet until Charley spoke up.

"I have five servers attacking me about comping' food, hundreds of dollars worth! Either because it was too slow, or it didn't come out at the same time, or still hasn't come out. What do you expect me to do?"

Snatching the tickets from her hand, George tore them up in front of her face, stuffing them into her apron. The servers all looked at him in shock. George smiled and leaned close to them.

"Be nice... The customer is never wrong. Everyone leaves impressed, everyone talking about how great The Ship is the next day. Everyone! Take the food off the bill, tear up the goddamn bill, I don't care Charley! Girls... Listen to me. All of the guests here tonight get exactly what they want. Understand? No exceptions."

Telling them exactly what to say, Charley shrugged and sped off. The servers all nodded silently and walked away to give the diners the good news.

"Food was on us tonight folks, we are so sorry for the delays. Our surge in popularity has out paced our anticipations. We are training additional employees. Next week we will have a stronger staff in place. Your next visit will have no delays plus exciting new Chef Anderson Specials."

Heather felt silly as she repeated the same script to every table. Nonetheless, that's what Charley demanded they say, word for word. And she was watching.

As the night moved on, one problem after another threw wrenches into George's important impression. The printer in the kitchen stopped. Before it was identified as a problem, several orders were never printed, all just hovering invisibly in the terminal's RAM waiting for a printer connection.

Sometime after the orders stopped, Miguel questioned the printer's status. Stopping his work, he examined it closer, finding the unit had no power. Following the power cord, he discovered the power strip it was plugged into had tripped its breaker. Flicking the reset switch, the printer glowed its green light again. The orders came spewing out of the printer in a two-foot ribbon.

Already behind, the cooks now had to overcrowd every inch of the equipment in an effort to squeeze the missing orders onto the grill and stove top. Struggling, pushing and shoving, fighting to regain control with every imaginable shortcut, they worked furiously to catch up. But there was no recovery. The lost orders hitting the line all at once sunk them into irrecoverable destruction. With the realization that all was hopeless, they lost their momentum entirely. They trudged on, eventually the orders slowed to a crawl and finally stopped coming out altogether.

Wiping their brows with dirty stained towels, they looked at the mess of confusion with hopelessness.

"Fuck me!" Armando said with sigh as he leaned on his knees. "You guys weren't kidding, this line is rough man! I like the dishes better I think. I don't want to cook no more."

Miguel looked at him in anger. "Fine you pussy! Then start gathering dees dirty shit up and get eet out of our way. With dees mess, we will never get out of here by last call."

Armando dashed from the stressful line with an armload of pans and began hacking the kitchen back into shape.

The night wore on with despair. With less than an hour to closing time, servers were backed up around Charley waiting for food comps so they could begin to cash out and start their closing side work. The bar crowd thinned out after a drunken cop threatened to fight a group of local boaters over a spilled drink. Jules curbed any real violence with free drinks but the mood in the bar had been broken by the tense stand off. George looked on with livid frustration as Rich sat watching, completely sober.

"This guy is serious. He doesn't get drunk, no flirting. I wonder what his weakness is?" George wondered.

As the Good Ship neared closing time, the customers dwindled down to a mere few bar patrons, George walked over to Rich as if surprised to see him.

"Hello there! I am happy to see you couldn't wait until the weekend to return. I believe The Good Ship is beckoning you back my friend," he said laughing.

"It is I guess," Rich said, "I actually do like it here, I work six, seven days a week in our restaurants. This place has been a breath of fresh air. People kept telling me the food was the draw. This Chef Rob and all... Sure, the food is great. But to me, it's the decor and the view that command attention. It is a truly beautiful location. I doubt people would be willing to put up with these wait times if not for the fantastic view... Regardless of how good the food is. The staff needs a little help but that's expected. Ticket times could come down by more than half with our menu. Tables could be turned faster with our training. That's where my colleague Paul takes action. He can get this place running like a machine in three weeks."

George liked what he heard. "You and I can do business. I am certain of it," George said looking at Rich, sizing up his reaction.

Rich raised his eyebrows and slyly smiled as he replied. "Maybe so. You know as well as I do, it's all about the numbers. If the P&L is looking as strong as you say, I'm sure they will have interest. The numbers don't lie."

George interrupted. "Neither does a fully booked and overflowing house on a Wednesday night."

Rich toasted his glass, "I'll drink to that. This place is bustling, especially for a Wednesday. I can't wait for our dinner this weekend. Our CEO is coming on Saturday. He has relatives in Maysville, the Clooney's I think. He lands in Cincinnati on Saturday afternoon. He figured he might as well tag along with us before he drives out to Maysville. He wants to see this location for himself, seeing how expensive it is and all."

George laughed, but inside he was nervous. "The big CEO himself! Well now, you must really want The Good Ship for you own. A CEO would never visit a humble investment such as this personally unless he's very interested in buying. Am I correct?"

Rich nodded. "You may have a point. It could be that. Then again, it could be because he was coming here regardless. Stop by for a free meal and loads of drinks, then off to his family's house without spending a dime."

George leaned into Rich. "That is fine by me. Even if he will not meet my price, once he tries our food, he will come back every time he visits his family. Perhaps invite the Clooney's as well. The first one may be free, but after that, they will be so addicted to our cuisine that he will have to pay like everyone else, just to satisfy their craving."

Laughing, Rich nodded. "Maybe so... You are a real character George. I hope it works out. You never know, until we see the numbers... You know what I mean?" he asked, nudging George with his elbow.

George just smiled and nodded. "Another drink?" he asked.

"No, I'm heading out in a second. Hey did you run your P&L report yet? Could I get a copy of that? I would like to look it over tonight."

George was on the spot. He wasn't ready to show the report yet, not until he had time to correct the dates and times from the altered numbers.

"Of course," he quickly replied. "I have not even seen the report yet myself. Let me have Charley print a copy and I will be back shortly."

Walking to the dining room, George motioned for Charley to follow him into the office.

"Run the P&L report please."

She looked at him with aggravation as she typed the commands into the computer.

"What's the use? Jules is still open and the numbers will keep changing until she closes out. Plus that thing takes so many pages to print. It's huge. We never even print those. Why would you need it now anyway?"

George was running out of patience. "Just do it please," he barked.

"I am I am. Jesus, wait for it to print. It will take a few minutes," Charley shot back in her defense.

Scanning the report, George smiled. The inflated numbers made The Ship appear as if it was extremely profitable. Flipping the pages, he came to the daily totals. Tonight had ruined the profit margin. The total was dismal. Only seven thousand and change for the entire day and night, down from seventeen a week ago. All the comped' checks had hurt the total severely. Plus, he had stalled his laundered deposits due to Charley's snooping. Food cost was over 70 percent, up from 33 percent last week. George was dismayed. This report showed a sinking Ship. He knew he couldn't allow Rich to keep this report, not until he had the opportunity to alter the dates and times, plus add his illegal cash.

After removing the last few pages reflecting the evening's losses, He folded the P&L, tucking it under his arm as he walked to the bar.

"Jules," he snapped. "Merlot please. Leave the bottle if you will."

Setting a glass and bottle on the bar, she went back to cleaning. Filling the glass to the brim, taking it in hand, he walked over to Rich. Smiling, he placed the report on the table.

"Here it is, hot off the press. When you read this my friend, you will be impressed."

Rich reached out to pick it up. George slid his wine glass in-between them. Knocking it over onto the report, he quickly snatched it up, slinging the wine off.

"Oh I'm so sorry. This is ruined now!" George said sadly.

Blotting it off, he placed on the table. "Perhaps it is still legible. I will get you another copy on Saturday," George said as Rich took it in hand.

"That's fine," Rich replied as he read. "I can make out the lines I wanted to see."

George relaxed as he watched Rich scan the report. "I couldn't send this to the head office in this condition, but looking at these numbers, I am very impressed with the sales."

George patted him with a laugh. "No worries, I will print another for when you arrive Saturday."

Rich nodded in agreement. "Sure, that will be fine."

George assured him the next report would be in satisfactory condition.

"George, one more thing. Chef Rob, he will be here on Saturday right?

George smiled. "Yes, yes of course, Chef Rob will personally oversee the dinner."

Rich winked. "Good. They really want to meet him. I know they will be disappointed if he doesn't show this time. A purchase with a built-in staff is one thing, but a respected chef is quite another. Corporate wants to get rolling quickly on this Cincinnati opening. Having a chef ready to spring into action is really big plus for us. Since we are on such a deadline, it could go a long way to help seal the deal."

George assured him Rob would be present as they made their farewells. Waving to Rich as he walked down the gangplank, George stood smiling at the railing. The Caller's update on Rob put George's mind at ease, but there was little time left to get Rob back to The Ship and no time to find another front of house professional to keep the dining room in perfect form for the important dinner besides Ellen.

"A good staff is valuable to them... I must have Ellen here as well, there is simply no time to find a qualified replacement," George said under his breath.
Chapter 19

It was near midnight as Ellen stepped onto the dock. Hao was waiting under a lamplight. A cloud of smoke encircled his head from his puffing pipe. Seeing Ellen, he rose with a wave.

"I see you still have the courage to go," Hao said, looking her up and down. "Look here young lady, you are brave but always remember... The speeding bullet beats the flying fist. If you see trouble, you run."

Ellen agreed she would take every caution. His warning reminded her how dangerous this trip was, but the fire inside her to fulfill her father's dying wish was too strong to abandon. She was too close to turn back.

Stepping down into the boat, Ellen started the engine. Hao tossed the line to her as the boat pulled away chugging. Keeping close along the shore, Ellen piloted the boat towards the sea. The bright neon city contrasted the ancient reed laden riverbank. The lights of Can Tho gleamed like Las Vegas through the night fog.

Chugging along with the current, the lights quickly faded into blackness. The city slowly disappeared giving way to dimly lit ramshackle houses perched above the water on stilts, dark jungle sounds and splashing crocodiles.

Chugging in the silent water past the drug boat cove and on into new territory, all light except the moon disappeared. Drifting on the current with her engine off, soft ripples from the hull, squealing animal calls and haunting hoots from the jungle surrounded her. Ellen began to feel a fear.

Clearing a big bend in the river, the abandoned tank came into view. In the moonlight she could see it plainly, sitting in the water like an elephant reaching out with it's rusty trunk, covered in hanging vines and draped moss. Slowing down, she turned the boat to the shore. Quietly slipping through the reeds, she coasted until she saw a well-worn trail through the tall brush beside the iron monster.

Pushing the nose towards the shore, the bow slid onto the bank with a thump and a scrape. Stepping out, Ellen stood in the moonlight. Her fear grew as she sat still, breathless and scared. With a jolt, she jumped as jungle sounds shot out at her. This was a strange land, now she was deep in its dark belly.

Reeds crackled as someone approached. Afraid it was a crocodile, Ellen darted back to the boat. Watching with her breath held in fear, she strained to see who, or what, was coming towards her. Out of the dark jungle, a shadowy figure stepped out of the brush. With small silent steps, the figure moved closer and slid the cloak off. Ellen could see the face in the moonlight... it was Mai Sun Lee.

Jumping from the boat, Ellen rushed to her side.

"Hello... Mai Lee?" she whispered.

Maria's mother looked around on all sides. "It is me... Come close, listen, there is little time. My daughter you seek, Maria Lee. She is here. On the very boat you were at today, pointing her rifle at your boat from the rooftop."

Ellen's face flushed to tears of joy. "Please tell me how I can talk to her... If she would like to come with me to America."

Hushing her, Mai Lee continued.

"It would be such a wonderful thing to take her to America. She could be... a woman again. When she was born, I knew she would be sold to the gangs for a whore, or killed. I taught her to go by a boy's name whenever anyone was near. I kept her head shaved, wrapped her breasts tight as she grew. She has dressed as a boy from birth, lived as a boy, she still lives as man today. Her father gave her height, taller than other girls. This helped disguise her. By wearing a cloak and whispering, she has passed as a man for all these years. It was the only way to keep her alive. No one has ever known she is a woman."

Ellen was shocked, yet relived at the same time.

Continuing, Mai Lee explained. "Both her and I have worked for the drug gang for decades. It was our only safety from the Viet Cong, and the mobs. Even the Cong fear the gangs here. They trained her to fight from a young age. She is feared by all, no one dares to cross her. She fights very strong and is trained in many weapons, an expert knife thrower too. Her cloak hides her face from her true identity to this day," Mai Lee said quietly.

"I saw her pointing the rifle at us. I just can't believe it. I never imagined that was a girl up there," Ellen said still shocked.

Mai Sun nodded. "No one does, that keeps her safe," she said smiling.

Mai Sun's smile faded to a look of sorrow. "Your father, Sgt. Marco Addison... Very good man, and so handsome. I loved him very much. He promised to take me with him when he found out about Maria, but he never came back for us."

Ellen looked sad at the woman. Realizing the hard life Mai Lee must have endured, Ellen felt sorrow for her pain.

"I know, he told me. He was very sad. His last day in the war... he was coming to you when he stepped on a mine, it took his legs. They flew him home just as the city was invaded. I know he planned to come back for you but he never had the chance after..."

Mai Lee threw her arms up. "It is all very sad, but no one can change the past. Maria, she could still have a future, maybe have children, live free as a woman for the first time in her life. If you can take her away from this place... I need time to make the plans. You come back here the day after tomorrow, at midnight. The crew will be drunk by then. I will send Maria."

Ellen was overjoyed to tears. "I want to bring you with us too."

Looking worried, Mai Lee shook her head. "I can help Maria leave, I can cover for her to the guards, buy you time to get her away... but if I leave too... They will know something has happened. They will search for us right away. Their reach is wide and they have agents in every corner of the city. I must stay behind... to tell them a terrible story, tell them I saw her taken by a crocodile. Cry many tears until they believe me. If I go too, they will know... They will find us, and kill us all."

Patting her arm, Ellen consoled her. "I will help you, I have enough money to get you both out. We will all three be in America very soon. I can't believe it! It's finally going to happen. I will be here Thursday at midnight. Please try to come with her."

Mai wiped a tear of joy from her eye. They shared a hug as they said their goodbyes. Ellen watched as Mai Lee slipped quietly into the black jungle. Ellen drifted back out into the moonlit river, her heart overjoyed. She was elated that Maria was alive and well, and would soon be freed from her life of slavery.

The entire ride back went by without a second of fear. Ellen's elation filled her with nothing except joy. Nosing the bow between the docks, the boat drifted up to the light Hao was sitting under.

"Miss Ellen! I see you have returned to me safely, and my boat still looks good too."

Ellen climbed out onto the deck. "Hao you are a life saver! I need you to help me one more time, with pay of course. I need your boat again, Thursday night."

She looked at him with high hopes.

"Sure, sure. You can you use it, I never use it after dark anyway," he replied.

She could barely wait until the meeting. Her mission was finally progressing.

The walk back to Nam Mon was blissful. Ellen paid particular attention to the friendly faces, the playing children and the smiling street vendors as she passed the waterfront. Even this late at night, people were still on the streets, all along the waterfront. Stepping into the cool Nam Mon, Ellen shivered. Waving at the smiling desk clerk, she dashed up the stairs to her room.
Chapter 20

The early morning sun peaked above the jungle. Rob awoke fast and ran downstairs to the lobby. Pacing the lobby, he stopped to stare out the window at the mass of junk boats floating into view. A hundred or more homemade vessels laden with fresh fruits, seafood and vegetables began to crowd against the waterfront.

Even in the pre-dawn hours, traffic was already flowing thick past the Nam Mon. Scanning the cars, Rob suddenly noticed the black Fiat. He couldn't see inside the dark glass, but the feeling of being watched became suddenly very real.

"That bastard! He really is following me!" Rob said to himself. "That's the car... and that guy was snagged right in front of me into that same car. It has to be the same car. Somehow... he found me."

True fear overcame his paranoia and convinced him the Fiat was a real threat. Staying in the safety of the lobby, he felt trapped. He desperately needed to keep searching for Ellen, but now he was afraid to leave the hotel.

The bartender began setting out an impressive fruit buffet at the bar. Rob filled a paper plate and took a seat near the entrance. Snacking on the fresh fruit, he went over the steps in his mind. He was convinced Ellen could still be in Can Tho, perhaps in this very hotel. It was his only hope. The clerk was still stubbornly avoiding his question of whether she was registered there. All he could do now was wait and find out if she was here, or had been here. He had painstakingly checked all the other hotels, this one was the only place left.

Nervously watching out the window as he ate his fruit, he waited for the Fiat to leave but it never moved. No one entered or exited it either. As he sat wondering what to do next, Ellen stepped down the stairs. His heart skipped beat as he saw her walk into the lobby.

"Ellen!" Rob yelled from his seat.

Jumping up, he knocked over his chair rushing to her side.

"Rob!" She couldn't believe her eyes. "What are you doing here Rob? My God, I can't believe you are here! What are you..."

Hugging her strongly with both arms, he felt his entire body relax.

"I am here to find you Ellen! The big question is, what are you doing here?"

She hugged him tight. "Oh Rob. I can't believe..."

Leaning back, she stared at his welcome face through near tears of joy. "I just can't believe you are here, in Vietnam, in this very hotel! Lets go to my room and I will tell you all about what has happened."

The two skipped up the stairs. The Caller watched from across the street. He could see Rob and Ellen through the window. Fearing he would be noticed if he dared to go inside, he was forced to wait in the car until Rob appeared outside. Time was running out to catch his prey.

Sitting on the low futon, Ellen explained the events that led up to today. She explained how she met her sister's mother and the meeting they had arranged. Looking worried, he interrupted.

"I am going with you. Anything could happen. I don't like the sound of this at all. If I can't talk you out of it, I am going with you."

Ellen loved the idea. The thought of going deep in the jungle at midnight frayed his nerves. Nonetheless, he wasn't about to let her go alone.

"The minute we pick them up and get to land, we will rent a car and drive to the airport. We will be safe there. They have armed guards everywhere," he said as they sat on the bed.

Ellen agreed. She was so relieved he was there, but her thoughts about him were still confused. She was still concerned as to why Charley was naked in his kitchen.

Rob explained the past few days, starting with the video and the incident in his apartment with Charley. Hearing that Rob didn't have sex with Charley as she thought, Ellen breathed a sigh of relief. Relaxed, she listened curiously as he explained The Deal he had made with George.

"Wow, George had someone attack you at The Pub over that video? And Charley was willing to go to such shameless effort to get it back for him?" Ellen asked with wonder. "She must have something really important going on with this George. I wonder what it's all about?"

Rob laughed. "She wants to hang onto this guy for dear life, that's what. He is rich. He paid millions for The Ship. I even saw the contract. She's on track now to everything she ever wanted, as long as George doesn't ditch her. She will do anything to keep him. He seems to like her too, for whatever reason. After Sandra left for the cruise line job, he made Charley the new manager."

Ellen scowled. "Charley? She hasn't the first clue how to run that place."

Rob nodded. "Well, George likes her, so the entire crew is stuck with her stupid bullshit."

As Ellen's troubled thoughts were happily calmed about Rob's feelings for her, she realized he must care more than she could have realized. After all, he refused Charley's advances and then came all the way here just to find her.

After Rob explained his journey to Vietnam, he told Ellen of the incident with the black Fiat. She was concerned but confused as to who could be chasing him. All she knew for certain was that the sooner they could leave the drug gang's reach and the mystery man in the Fiat far behind, the better.

As Rob ordered food from the hotel, Ellen showered, drying and dressing in haste. Wasting no time, she rushed back to Rob. Sliding into bed beside where he was propped against the headboard, she leaned comfortably against his body. Her head on his shoulder, she relaxed. Pulling her close with a strong arm, Rob held her tight. It was a silent moment of clarity. They both understood what each other meant to them now. Vietnam had seen to that.

The recent revelations about Rob and Maria had left her with a warm glow. The idea that great things were coming to pass was becoming real to her. Resting quietly in Rob's arms, she nestled herself into a soothing calm beside him. Leaning on his shoulder, she silently wondered if Rob would make another effort of intimacy towards her. This time it would be different. This time, she would be the woman she always wanted to be towards him.

The knock from the bellboy startled them both as he stood outside with the take out order. Paying for the food, Rob took the bag and set out the cartons. They dined side by side as the afternoon sun began to fade.

"Man! Even the hotel food is amazing over here," Rob said as he dug into the meal. "There is so much I want to see and taste and learn here. It would take serious study to replicate these flavors exactly. This cuisine has a real magic to it."

The evening sun sunk into the river. Miles of neon blinked on, illuminating the city. By dark, glowing neon light lit the room in a pale red glow. Ellen could feel her heartbeat. Her head against Rob's chest, she could feel his as well.

Thoughts of her first lovemaking soon consumed her mind. Nervousness took over. Nothing she imagined, nothing she remembered from romance novels, nor romantic movies helped ease her anxiety. She desperately wanted to show him how she felt, but didn't know the first thing to do. She knew she needed to do something, anything to let Rob know she was ready. In that magic moment, she felt time would stop if she could only muster the courage to let the passionate woman hiding inside her out.

Lying still, eyes barely open, Rob held her quietly. Ellen looked up at his face in the red glow. Slowly, she slid her hand to his pants. Feeling it's edge, she tucked her fingertips under the waistband, sliding them in, she eased her hand down. Finding his manhood, she gently rubbed, running her fingers around the unfamiliar flesh that fueled her fantasies, and her insecurities. As she felt it stiffen in her hand, she had no idea what to do next. This was her first touch of any man in her life.

Turning to her, Rob held her face with both hands. Looking dead into her eyes, he kissed her, just a soft touch at first. Pulling her lip with his, he stopped then started again, harder this time. Leaning onto her, they kissed passionately.

Ellen found the button on his pants and wormed it loose. Tugging his pants down, she slid one side at a time to his knees. Kicking them off onto the floor with his feet, he slowly moved over her. Rising atop her, resting on his elbows, running his fingers through her hair, he looked in her eyes again.

"So much wonderful behind those eyes," he thought as she smiled back silently.

Staring eye to eye, they kissed again. Wanting to show him she was ready, Ellen broke the kiss as she began to worm her own pants down. Sliding them off, she kicked them away with her socked feet. Spreading her legs slightly, Rob settled in between her knees. She felt his growing erection rest against the warmth of her panty covered virgin womanhood. Through the thin sheer, he could feel her heat. She could feel his manhood harden against her virgin flesh as they kissed again.

The night air was alive with the sounds of the vibrant city outside the open window. Inside, the two lovers were wrapped together in a soft embrace. Not wanting a repeat of their last near sexual encounter, Rob kissed Ellen's ear, whispering.

"Ellen, you don't have to..."

She quickly interrupted. "I want to. It's what I have wanted so badly, for so long. I never imagined I would really ever have what I wanted. But now I want..."

Kissing her neck, he realized as much as she wanted to, Ellen was too self-conscience, too inexperienced to take action. As Rob began tugging her panties off with a slow pull, Ellen felt a panic. She almost reached to stop him... but fought the fear. Quickly, she covered herself with the sheet before he could see her naked.

Sliding up to her under the sheet, Rob slid her shirt up. Her breasts pushed together between her arms. Electric pulses ran through her as he licked circles around her sensitive nipples. Sliding his hand down to Ellen's warmth, he lightly eased a single finger into her. With the first touch, he sighed in amazement at her overwhelming wetness. Inching her legs apart, she tried to encourage him.

Another finger entered. Rob saw her flinch in the glowing light. Easing his fingers out, he looked at her and whispered.

"Did that hurt?"

She nodded, "I've never done anything before... You know, I am still a... "

"Ellen, are you sure... you want to?" he whispered in her ear.

Feeling his fingers stop, she wrapped him with both arms. "Yes Rob. Yes, more than anything. Please don't stop. I just don't know what to..."

Knowing full well this was a big step for Ellen, Rob put his own burning desire to enter her on hold. Kissing her again, he eased his fingers back into her heat. Gently, he pushed in, moving with slow circles. Finding her soft button with his thumb, he circled around it with a gentle touch. He felt her breath quicken as she stared into his eyes.

Grasping the sheets with both hands, Ellen inched into his touch. Rob built up his momentum slowly. Speeding up to a faster pace, he felt her stiffen. Moving down her body with biting kisses along her thigh, he heard her cry out softly. Slowly, he moved down her leg one kiss at a time. She squirmed under him in newfound arousing pleasure.

Straining her legs, her muffled moans got louder in time with his movements. Pushing a second finger into her, rubbing them both into her magic spot, he felt her body quiver. Gasping, she cried out.

"Oh my god.... I'm going to... you're making me... Oh, don't stop."

She held dead still, only her lips still moving, mouthing soft moans. Rob softened his light biting to slow sucking kisses as his lips found her most sensitive spot. Tugging gently with his mouth, he teased it with a flicking tongue, causing her to clench her fingers into the sheet. Building momentum, he continued licking and sucking her tender spot until he felt her seize and shudder. With a quick motion she grabbed his head, pushing him off of her womanhood as her breath gasped.

"Too much... Oh god that was amazing," she said through hard breaths.

Rising up on top of her, he moved between her legs as she parted them wider for him. Face to face, still breathing hard, she looked into his eyes. Ellen knew this was the moment she had been longing for so many years.

Guiding himself with one hand, his manhood easily found her heat. Easing in, pushing gently, he entered her virgin womanhood. Letting out a soft cry, she squinted. Pausing to allow her to relax, he looked into her eyes as she stared back into his. With an ever so slight nod, she coaxed him on.

With a single thrust, he slid into place inside her. Biting her lip, she mouthed a silent cry. Seeing her wince, Rob paused. Fearing he would stop again, Ellen pulled him into her with both hands. Slowly moving in and out of her warmth, building tempo, he pushed harder, deeper with each stroke.

The feelings rushed through her like a freight train blasting into the night. Her mind blurred with intense emotions. Pleasure, pain, longing, love, insecurity, passion and fear mixed together in her deepest thoughts. She couldn't stay silent anymore. Her mouth moaned sounds of pain and pleasure both at the same time.

Pulling out almost entirely, Rob eased Ellen's knees back against his shoulders. With a strong push, he finally filled her completely. Stopping for an instant he held still, appreciating the feeling of her tight grip clamp around him in spasms. His manhood grew larger with clench, bigger than he could ever remember. She held him so tightly. His straining girth could feel her every breath her womanhood squeezed him tighter. Ellen felt him swell inside her. A feeling she never imagined would even come to pass was consuming her now, propelling her into new waters of unknown depth.

Easing her legs back farther, Rob leaned his shoulders into her thighs. His head tucked against her neck, he pushed into her with all his might. The bed began to rattle in time with his thrusts. Her breasts bounced to the rhythm as he rocked her with a steady tempo.

His face strained in what looked to her like agonizing pleasure. Ellen was lost in the magic feeling. Surrendering her body, she felt waves of new feelings coursing through her. Her eyes watered, her lips quivered. She was out of control, happily lost in the revelation of this new emotion.

Digging her nails into his back, she matched his momentum with her hips as he pushed into her. Slightly pausing, he whispered.

"Ellen, you feel so good. I can't take it. I'm going to... I'm almost..."

Not knowing what she should do or say, caught up in the beautiful moment, Ellen whispered.

"Yes, Yes Rob."

With a final thrust, pushing deep inside her womb, he paused again, releasing his primal urge. Her eyes wide, she held still as she felt him pulsing hot inside her. With eyes shut tight, he let out a deep sigh. Slowly lowering his body onto hers, he collapsed in a heap onto her breasts. They lay quiet together, sweating hot passion onto the sheets as they caught their breath. As he slid to her side, she curled up against him, her eyes blurred with tears of joy.

Insecure with her naked figure exposed, Ellen quickly pulled the sheet over her. She felt perfectly comfortable now. Soothing peace filled her through and through as they lay still. She had waited so long for someone she wanted so badly. Now, under a red neon glow, in this strange exotic world, she was in her dream lover's arms. She couldn't have imagined a better time or place to experience her first lovemaking. It was a moment she knew she would never forget.

After a deep calming sleep, Ellen awoke to the early morning sounds of metal trashcans beating into an obnoxiously loud garbage truck. Rob shot awake, rubbing his eyes. Looking to the window, he blinked, trying to focus his vision as he scanned the street for the Black Fiat. Stepping cautiously to window, he studied the streets closer. There it sat, parked on the corner. The black Fiat was still waiting.

"He is still out there!" Rob said to Ellen as he pointed in the direction of the car.

Dressing quickly, they made themselves ready in nervous haste. Taking the back exit, jogging down the alley into the busy streets, Ellen ran along beside until Rob felt they were a safe distance from the Fiat's line of sight. Feeling secure the stalker couldn't see them any longer they slowed their pace to a normal stride.

Along the waterfront, Ellen noticed many people on outdoor chairs eating something wafting an intoxicating aroma. Smoky, savory, sweet and spicy, it called to them from across the breeze like a sexy siren call from a mythical mermaid of the sea.

They had the entire day and evening to explore before their midnight meeting with Maria. Walking to Ellen's side, Rob pointed to a homemade eatery serving the aromatic food.

"Lets sit over here, so we can see anyone approaching us," he said.

Taking seats on short green plastic lawn chairs, they watched as servers ran back and forth to a small shack. They emerged carrying steaming Hot Pots. Platters piled high with fried fish and prawns passed by. Heaping bowls of bright white sticky rice and wok-fried noodles called out with their aroma as they steamed in big wooden bowls. Homemade draft beer, served warm in small plastic buckets seemed to be the only beverage available.

The waitress stopped beside them. She spoke English, but not well.

"Do you have iced tea?" Ellen asked.

With a fast nod the girl replied. "Okay tea," was all she uttered.

Rob looked at the amazing food passing by him.

"I saw some fish and prawns. How much are those?" he asked.

The girl nodded fast again, "Okay fish & prawns," she mumbled as she scurried away.

Shooting a confused look at Rob, Ellen shrugged with a smile. She began laughing out loud. Laughing with her, he imitated the server's remark.

"Okay-Tea... Okay-Fish... Whoosh! Gone... Don't you wish it were that simple for you back home?"

Ellen laughed louder as she agreed. "Yeah I could see that," she said still laughing. "A customer asks, 'What's the special?' I just say 'Okay-Special.' 'Do you have Pepsi or Coke products' and I say 'Okay-Coke,' then vanish without a word. It would be such fun."

Rob agreed as he laughed. "It would keep customers on their toes, that's for sure."

Watching with eyebrows raised high, they both stared as the server placed a small bucket of foamy warm beer on their table. Bright blue with a green handle, it looked like a child's sand pail. Beside it, she placed two paper cups. It was at least 50 ounces of fresh brewed Vietnamese beer.

"Beer for breakfast? I didn't even order beer," Rob said, filling a cup.

Reluctantly pouring a short cup, Ellen was still dying of thirst.

"Oh it's gross!" she said as it crossed her lips.

Smiling at her contorted face, Rob nodded. "It's okay I guess. It reminds me of drinking beer you found the morning after a big party, left laying in the sunshine on the lawn, or lost in the bushes. Still hung over from the night before, you just open it up right then and chug it down all warm and watery."

Ellen put her cup down with disgust. "I wish I had a cold drink. It's so hot and sticky here," she said fanning her face with her hand.

After only a mere few minutes of wait, the hurried server dropped a huge platter of fried fish and prawns on the table. A second server brought a gallon-sized kettle with steaming green tea. Neither server paused to ask, or be asked anything.

"Well, there's your tea," Rob said mockingly as he looked at the steaming kettle.

Ellen looked at it with disappointment. Her thirst for something cold was dire.

Not bothering to pour a cup this time, Ellen questioned the steaming pot.

"Hot tea? It's 99 in the shade and they serve you hot drinks. I wish they had those frozen smoothie fruit drinks here. Those are so good."

Rob shrugged. "I don't think you are going to get anything else here. I damn sure wouldn't dare drink the water. Just look at this fish though," he said prodding the crispy filet. "And these prawns, they're huge, that portion alone is at least twenty five dollars back home, wholesale!"

Chomping into a crispy prawn, Ellen sighed as the wonderful flavors passed over her tongue. Rob snapped the fried filet in two, admiring the fish's white flaky flesh. Taking his first taste of his golden fish, he could hear Ellen 'Mmmm... ahhh,' as she moaned between bites. Consuming an entire thumb sized prawn in three quick bites, she didn't even bother with the sweet and spicy condiments.

Delightfully devouring the platter of fish and prawns, they paid and left. Making their way down the alleys, looking for the fruit smoothies, Ellen and Rob walked hand in hand as a couple for the first time. It was a deeply calming feeling Ellen had never felt before in her entire life.

Locating a fruit drink to cool Ellen's craving, they found a vendor selling the drinks alongside huge hollow doughnuts. Browsing the shops, their eyes scanned carts filled with everything imaginable. Herbs and spices were heaped high in shiny tin buckets. Wooden barrels of rice, Chinese knock-off counterfeit jewelry and fake name brand clothing & shoes were piled high at insanely low prices.

The city swarmed with shoppers, locals and tourists alike. The day seemed to fly by. The simple joy of talking, walking and occasionally falling under the spell of some Vietnamese treat had Ellen in Seventh Heaven, and Rob finally content. Even in his relaxed state, Rob continually scanned the cityscape around them, always with an eye out for the black Fiat.

Lost in a newfound love of life, Ellen felt like a new woman. With Rob by her side, she felt the world was at her fingertips. Last night was an amazing first for her. Now, happily full and content, she wanted more.

"It's so hot out here, we should head back to the room. Maybe we can take a shower, then we could..." she said with laughing eyes.

"Really, all this to explore and you want to go back so soon?" Rob asked.

Ellen looked down with her hands in her pockets, sheepishly shrugging.

"I don't know, I mean... I was thinking we could go back to the cool room and maybe..."

Smiling, she looked up at him with bright eyes.

"You know, maybe we can rest, in the bed and then..." she said embarrassingly.

Rob realized what she was hinting at.

"Oh. Hell yeah! That does sound good, now that you put it that way."

Laughing, he hugged her as they turned towards the Nam Mon.

Back in the room, they took turns taking a cooling shower. Jumping into the bed first, Rob didn't bother to put on clothes. Ellen was much more reluctant to be seen in the nude. She had been nervous in the darkness of last night. But here in the daylight, being naked in front of Rob was more than she could bear. She had no illusions about her weight. As much as she despised her fat, there was nothing she could do about hiding it now. It had always come between her and romance. The fear built up from decades of rejection still haunted her.

Waiting excited in the bed, Rob hadn't noticed her embarrassment.

"Ellen! Let's get you over here and see what you have in mind," he called out as she stepped out the shower wrapped in a towel.

Crawling under the covers, she removed her towel awkwardly. Immediately Rob's fingers began seeking her heat.

The next hour clicked by to the sounds of kisses, moans and heavy breathing as they made love for the second time. Ellen reveled in the happiness this new romance made her feel. It filled her with such exciting new emotions. Feelings she had only painfully dreamed about were now rushing through her, soothing her very soul.

After the sexual experience climaxed, the two lay embraced in a calming peace. They silently listened to the sounds of the street coming through the window. Still and quiet in the whir of the air-conditioner, they both felt completely content, finally together after so much doubt and difficulty. Wrapped in the sheet, nude in Rob's arms, Ellen wanted to stay in this moment forever, but the sun was fading away fast.

Tingling from head to toe, she rose up reluctantly from her loving cuddle, pulling the sheet around her as she stood beside the bed.

"Tonight is the night! Soon Maria and Mai Sun Lee will be with us, traveling back to America. I am so excited. I still can't believe it," she said with excitement.

Rob nodded in agreement. "I still find it so crazy that you flew here to find her with no help, and no preparation. But here we are, and you did find them. It's all so crazy."

Laughing as she dressed, Ellen worried about her inheritance.

"I hate having all this money with me," she said holding out the thick stack of cash.

Rob agreed, "I guess our best bet is to hide it really well. I don't know what else to do with it, but I sure don't want to take it with us," he said as he slid his pants on.

"They have no safe at this hotel. We will have to hide it somewhere in here," Ellen said as she walked around the room looking for a secret spot to stash it in.

Wrapping it in a plastic bag from the food delivery, she wound it up tight.

After scanning the room, Ellen headed to the bathroom. Searching the tiny room for a place to hide the cash, she looked at the vanity. Opening the doors, she knelt down, peeking in the cabinet. Removing the toilet paper, she felt around the bottom shelf. Prying on a loose edge of the cabinet's bottom, she pulled the wood up.

"Look Rob. The bottom of this vanity comes out."

Stuffing the plastic wrapped envelope under the cabinet's base, she put the wood bottom back and returned the toilet paper. Feeling safe that the money was well hidden, she shut the door.

"It should be safe there," she said.

Rob nodded. "It's as good as anywhere. It would take some time to find it there for sure."

Packing their clothes into the bags, they looked around, making sure nothing was forgotten. Wanting to waste no time leaving after they returned with Maria, they double-checked that everything was ready.

"We need to keep our passports with us. If someone steals those, we are stuck here," Rob said. Ellen nodded in agreement.

They tucked the little blue books into their pockets and set their bags by the door.

"When we get back, we can grab this stuff and head out. It looks like this is it," Rob said.

With the bags packed and the money stowed, Rob wanted to explore the city during the last remaining hours before they headed to the river. In the lobby, he worried about the Black Fiat. Waving Ellen back, he casually peeked through the front window. Seeing the car was still parked outside, his pulse quickened.

"He is still out front," Rob said with a hushed voice as he backed away from the glass. "We have to go out the back way again, through the alleys. That maniac is out there, waiting for me to leave," he said quietly.

Turning, Ellen looked out the window at the passing cars in the street.

"You really think so Rob? I mean, who in Vietnam would want to kidnap you in particular? Who here would even know who you are?"

Shaking his head in wonder, Rob shrugged. "I don't know. But I saw him plainly, he was not an Asian, he was Middle Eastern. I was the only American on that bus except for the guy he snatched. Maybe it's an American ransom type of thing. He probably thinks we all have wealthy parents ready to send him a million for our safe return. Either way, we're going out the back."

Walking to the back door, Rob paused, turning to Ellen he whispered.

"When I run, you run. Don't slow down, don't look back, just run with me."

With a quick look on both sides, he bolted out the creaking door, Ellen ran beside him. Side by side, they whipped down trash-laden alleys, leaping over empty crates, dashing under hanging laundry as feral cats scurried out of their path.

After five or six blocks, Ellen was winded. "Rob! Wait!" she called out under heavy strain. "I can't... run... anymore."

Leaning against a flyer plastered light pole, Ellen breathed hard in the heat. Rob looked around nervously as he waited for Ellen to catch her breath, watching every direction for the Black Fiat to appear in the street.
Chapter 21

In Cincinnati, George was on the edge of his seat, anxiously waiting for updates from the Unknown Caller. Texting him, he demanded to know what the delay was about.

"Waiting outside Anderson's hotel now," the Caller replied quickly.

George needed faster results as his time was running out. Texting back his reply, he offered a second incentive.

"At all cost, you must deliver Anderson by Saturday morning, bonus if Ellen is delivered as well."

This seemingly simple mission was becoming very frustrating to The Caller. Rob Anderson was just a cook, he should have been easier to apprehend. Now, he had the added pressure of securing Ellen as well. The situation was getting more difficult than he had planned.

With eyes glued to the lobby doors, The Caller sat poised, ready to spring on the couple the instant they appeared on the street. The next time Rob showed his face, he was not going to miss the opportunity to snatch him, hopefully snatch them both. He was feeling the pressure, not to mention his ego teasing him at his slow progress as a professional man hunter. He had single handedly captured and delivered countless men in the past, dangerous well armed men. Now, he was stuck in a tiny car trying to catch a simple Chef.

Unknown to The Caller, Rob and Ellen were already blocks away as he sat watching the lobby doors. Walking along the waterfront strip, Rob kept a constant eye out for the Black Fiat, instinctively dashing behind corners every time a small black car came into view. Ellen began to laugh after the third false alarm.

"It's not that I don't believe you, it's just a crazy thing to think that some scary Middle Eastern guy is driving around Can Tho looking to kidnap Rob Anderson, Chef of The Good Ship Cincinnati."

Rob shrugged. "I know. I agree, but he keeps on appearing, always just sitting in the car. He never gets out. I've seen him parked in front of the room several times. I saw his face. I'm pretty sure it's the same guy. What are the odds in that? I'm telling you, he's looking for me. Maybe the guy he snatched was a mistake. Maybe he took him thinking it was me, because he sorta' looked like me. That's why he let him go so quickly. The guy even said the kidnapper looked at his passport then threw him out. It has to be what happened. I just didn't realize it until now."

Browsing the waterfront scene, Ellen strolled joyfully hand in hand with Rob, but his paranoia was interfering with the enjoyment of it all.

"I'm sorry, I just want to go back to the room," he said as they stopped, peeking curiously into a teahouse. "This guy is real. He's looking for me and I have no idea why, but I'm not really up for a street fight hours before we can get the hell out of here safely."

Ellen agreed. She noticed how his every look was fixated on the passing cars since they left the room.

Using the safety of the alleys, they wormed their way back to the hotel through the zigzag streets. Coming to the rear door, they discovered it only opened from the inside.

"Damn! It's locked," Rob said twisting the locked knob.

"I will go around and let you in," Ellen said. "He's not looking for me. He would have found me by now if he was."

Rob reluctantly agreed. "Keep a close eye out for the car as you walk to the door."

Ellen nodded then disappeared around the corner.

The door clicked open a minute later. Ellen held it open as Rob dashed in.

"Did you see him?" he asked.

"Nope. No black cars at all."

Rob shook his head. "I don't understand it. Maybe I'm crazy from this heat."

Ellen shrugged, "Let's just stay in the room until we leave for the meeting. We don't have much longer to wait. He's not going to follow us on the river at night."

Rob thought about her wisdom. "Right, he would never expect me to take a boat into the river at midnight. Nor could he follow. What are the chances he has a boat ready and waiting just in case I went down river?"

Ordering food from the hotel, Rob clicked on the TV. Ellen gathered a towel to shower again as they waited.

"This heat is draining. I'm so sweaty, I'm glad it's getting dark, maybe it will cool down now," she said walking to the bathroom.

Rob ordered food as he switched through Asian TV channels with disinterest.

Dinner was delicious. Rob sighed at the sight of his egg noodles with braised beef, seared peppers and grilled pineapple slices. Ellen went with a simple vegetable rice dish. Its sparse look hid deliciously deep flavors of smoky grilled char. Savory local brewed soy and seared garlic fueled the fine sauce. Dining on the edge of the bed, they ate out of the paper cartons in quiet satisfaction.

The clocked clicked past ten thirty. Walking to the window, Rob scanned the cars below looking for the black Fiat. Not seeing it near the hotel, he felt it was safe to leave.

"It's gone. Maybe I am just paranoid," he said closing the window curtain.

Under the cover of the darkness, Rob and Ellen snuck out the back door of the Nam Mon to meet Maria. This was the moment Ellen had traveled so far for. Leading the way to the dock, Ellen explained where Hao would be waiting. Crossing the main street along the waterfront, The Unknown Caller, now parked catty cornered to the Hotel, spotted them from his car. As they walked down to the riverbank, The Caller followed on foot. Staying close behind, hugging the shadows as the three made their way to the dock.

Waving from under the light post, Hao saw them approach.

"Hello Hao!" Ellen called out.

"I see you brought a bodyguard this time," Hao said, looking at Rob.

"He's my... my friend Rob. Rob this is Hao."

Rob shook his hand. "Ellen told me how much you helped her. You deserve so much thanks for helping again tonight."

Shaking his head, Hao looked down at the dock.

"Can't say I like it. I don't think you two should go out there at all, especially at night. That Captain was very angry, he won't tolerate a second incident."

Rob agreed. "I think it's crazy too," he said. "But she is going no matter what, so I have to go along."

Looking stern, Hao placed a hand on Rob's shoulder. "Don't be brave young man. If you see trouble, you take her and run. These men put no value on life. They will not hesitate to kill you."

Rob nodded with fearful understanding as he climbed into the boat.

Moving past the candle lit boats gathered around the waterfront, they watched silently as they trolled past the junks. Hanging lamps illuminated curious faces in the dark as they passed. An occasional flaming wok cast it's orange light, creating long twisting shadows across the junk's deck onto the rippling black water. The scent of sizzling meat and spicy sauce of a late night meal was caught by the breeze and carried over their tiny craft.

Trolling on towards the sea, Rob pointed Ellen's attention to children as they played on high decks, precariously weaving around beams and ropes, laughing as they crisscrossed the deck rigging. Even this near midnight, the river was still alive in this floating city.

Ellen guided the boat down the river past the crowded waterfront on into the blackness. The scene instantly changed from swinging lamp lit boats dotting the shore, to solid black jungle. They quietly cruised on down the river without seeing another soul.

Crickets, monkeys and wild birds issued out strange calls all around them as they were carried along with the current. Ellen watched intently as she steered the boat. She knew where the tank was this time and slowed early, cutting the engine long before she was in sight of it. Gliding on the waves, they paddle steered the boat to the riverbank, sliding near silently to stop in the reeds beside the rusty abandoned tank.

"What now... There is no one here," Rob whispered.

"We wait," Ellen replied. "She will come, I just know it."

Anxious minutes passed slowly as they waited in the rocking boat. With a rustle, Mai Sun Lee suddenly appeared out of the jungle. Holding a finger over her mouth, she waved at Ellen, as if to say, "Be quiet." Ellen's eyes strained in the darkness, anxiously waiting to see her sister Maria appear.

"Is Maria with you? Is she coming?" Ellen whispered.

Mai Lee nodded. "She will be here. She has night watch. She will come after the others go to sleep. Just a few minutes more."

Giddy excitement replaced Ellen's fear. Mai Lee drew near to her side.

"You are sure you can get her to the US?" Mai Lee asked. "I wish with all my hope you can manage it. She has lived a hard life for so long, and I am old. They think she is my son. If they ever find out who she really is... that their lead guard is a girl... they will kill her for sure, or worse. I just know it will happen someday. I wish to see her happy before I go on to the next life."

Ellen felt tears again. "I will get her to America. I will. You must come too."

Mai Lee patted Ellen's arm. "You are a wish come true. I wished for Marco to come save us. I taught Maria good English in anticipation of his return. He never came back, but now he has sent his daughter in his place. That is a wish granted for me. Maria and I have a plan. When she arrives, I will return and explain her death."

The three sat nervously waiting for Maria to appear. Scanning the surroundings, Rob waited fearfully in the boat. For a split second, he heard an engine in the distance before it quickly went silent.

"I heard a boat," he whispered.

"It must be her," Ellen replied.

Mai Lee looked worried. "No. Maria was not coming by boat. Someone must have seen you."

Mai Lee waded into the reeds. She crept atop the tank for a better view.

"I don't see a boat," she whispered. "We wait for a few more minutes, then you must go."

Ellen wasn't about to leave now. "No. We will wait until she comes. She may just be held up," she replied.

Listening for the sound of anything he could recognize through the sounds of the jungle, Rob's ears and eyes strained in the darkness. Watching the shining moonlit river for signs of an approaching boat, his fear began to deepen. Sitting silent in the reed bed, they waited in silence, barely breathing. He grew more worried with each passing second.

"I am sure I heard a boat, then it just shut off," he whispered.

Mai Lee shot up pointing. "Go! Go Ellen quickly! Go back to Can Tho! Stop for nothing!" she called out, waving them away with a worried scowl as she dashed into the jungle.

Quickly starting the engine, Ellen jumped in as Rob began backing out of the cove. The noisy motor sprang to life with a loud sound that echoed in the trees. Chugging against the current, he steered it back towards the Can Tho waterfront at full speed. Ellen wormed across the benches to the back.

Out of the blackness Rob saw a light on the shore flash three times. Then the hum of engines shot out of the reeds. Boats with two men in each pulled along both sides of their tiny rushing boat. One of the men threw an anchor onto Ellen's boat. Letting go of the engine, Rob tried to free the rope but the man had jumped into their boat too quickly.

Leaping in from the other side just as fast, a second man slammed Rob in the face with a wooden club as he landed. Ellen's screams pierced the night. Grabbing Rob, the man wrestled him with fast moves, tying Rob's hands tightly together with a fast slipknot. The other punched Ellen in the head, grabbing her hands and deftly tying them to her waist as she kicked screaming.

Now in control, the man spun the boat around, heading back into the darkness at full throttle. The other boats rode alongside, their crews laughing. Rob and Ellen were powerless to do anything but watch in horror. Her dream just became a nightmare.

Arriving at the cove, Rob and Ellen were forced up to the deck of the big drug boat. The steely-eyed angry Captain from Ellen's earlier visit came out yelling with a harsh tone. Mai Sun Lee appeared, her lip swollen and a blood soaked bandage around her head. The man motioned to Mai Lee to translate.

Relaying his words, she hung her head sadly. "You come here looking for something that was never yours. Now you come back again. I forgave your first intrusion. But this one I will not. Tomorrow you will be food for the crocodiles. Tonight, you will please the crew. When they finish with you, you will die."

Cursing at the top of his lungs, Rob yelled out at the man.

"You can't take us and kill us! We did nothing to you!"

A guard punched Rob hard in the stomach. Searching his pockets, he took Rob's remaining savings, handing the cash to the Captain with a smile.

The Captain counted the money, ordering Ellen to be searched as well. Finding a few hundred dollars, he pocketed it and pointed for the guard to take her away.

Ellen cried as she was dragged to the deck floor.

With a fast yank, a guard tore her shirt away. Her breasts bounced in her bra for all to see. The guards stepped closer as one of the men squeezed her large breast with his small dark stained hand.

"Stop! Wait! I have money," Ellen cried out through her tears.

The Captain spun around facing her. Mumbling in Vietnamese to Mai Sun Lee, he stared at Ellen.

"We have money too," Mai Lee translated as the captain pulled a banded thick stack of bills from his pocket.

"We don't want to bother anyone," Ellen said ignoring his gesture. "We just want to go home."

Laughing, the captain whispered to Mai Lee what to say next. Mai Lee spoke with her head hung low.

"You should have thought about that sooner. You came into our home, we didn't come to yours. Your people came to our country, raped our women, murdered our fathers and brothers. You can no longer do what you please in Vietnam. Now, Vietnam will do what it pleases with you."

Motioning to the crew, the man instructed in Vietnamese that they could take Ellen. A dirty one-eyed man licked his lips as he snaked his hand under Ellen's bra. Pinning her against the deck, he yanked at her pants with his black stained fingers. Rob twisted in his ropes, trying to free himself. The guard tried to grapple him as Rob managed to stand up. With a desperate leap, he kicked the guard in the groin, sending him slumped to the deck. Springing back up, the guard bounced the butt of his gun into the back of Rob's head, collapsing him to his knees instantly as his eyes blurred.

The dirty man resumed his yanking on Ellen's pants. Pulling them to her knees, he exposed her naked legs. With a fast rip, he tore off her panties. Panic nearly stole her breath away as he tried to worm his fingers into her womanhood between her clenched thighs. Out of the moonlight, a knife whipped through the air. It's shiny blade stuck in the deck near Ellen's dirty attackers face. Jumping back, he looked up at the assailant. It was an ominous cloaked guard toting an AK-47.

The hooded guard whispered something in Vietnamese to the dirty man. It sent him scurrying away in fear, glancing back as he scrambled to safety. The mysterious guard slowly walked down to Ellen. Taking her roughly by the arm, he dragged her into a small cabin on the aft end of the boat, pushing Rob in behind her. The other crewmembers laughed. Ellen was too terrified to even cry.

The hooded guard motioned for Rob and Ellen to sit on the floor. Watching breathlessly as the man propped his gun against the door, he took out a shiny blade. Ellen felt fear paralyze her. Slowly kneeling down to her face, with a whisper he spoke.

"Just lie still. I am not going to hurt you."

Taking off his hood they saw his shaven head. Unwrapping a long scarf from around his neck, they saw his face. He looked at Ellen closer.

"I am Maria Sun Lee," she said with a faint whisper. "I have whispered all my life, to keep my true identity secret."

Shock and relief washed over them both as Ellen shot a look of surprise toward Rob. Ellen smiled with wonder at the first sight of her sister.

"I came here to get you. To take you to America with us," Ellen whispered as Maria cut their ropes free.

Looking at Ellen with sad eyes, Maria shook her head.

"I tried to meet you. But I could not leave, too dangerous. They will kill us all if I try to escape. I may be able to save you, or I may not. I will keep you here with me until morning, the others are afraid of me. They call me, 'The Whispering Blade.' I learned to throw my knife very well from a young age. It is a silent deadly weapon. They fear death by my blade more than guns. You will be safe with me for tonight. Tomorrow, I will try to help you escape. I will stay here with you. We must make sounds of struggle. They will leave us alone if they think I am raping you."

Cursing loudly, Rob yelled as if Maria were raping Ellen.

"Stop you animal! I will kill you!" he yelled as he thrashed in place.

Ellen cried out "Please no! Oh God Please no! Please stop!"

She continued making cries and murmurs for several minutes. After all was quiet outside. Maria held her finger to her lips. "Shhhh, lie down, try to sleep. I will stay as long as I can. They are all drunk now. We have to get you off the boat before they wake in morning."

Ellen couldn't imagine sleeping. She was in the bamboo hold of a gang boat, sentenced to gang rape and death by a savage drug captain. She had finally found her sister, but it was nothing what she expected to find, nor even imagined. Now her adventure had caused not only her life to be in danger, but Rob's as well. She sobbed in the darkness as the night slowly gave way to morning.
Chapter 22

The dawn shined through the cracks between the bamboo walls. Ellen heard the men scurry on the decks. Maria had left hours ago. Two sharp knives were left tucked under Ellen's pillow. Ellen took one and hid it in her pocket, handing the other to Rob. They peered through the cracks watching the men. In the pale light she could see they were loading bales of brown wrapped blocks onto the boat from the bank. She saw Maria, standing guard over the men in her cloak, her rifle pointed slightly above their heads. She looked terrifyingly menacing, no one would suspect there was a woman under her ominous garb.

The Captain came out, barking orders at the crew as he unlocked the door to the hold. Standing in the doorway, he motioned for Ellen to get up then patted the wooden bench against the wall. She stood and walked slowly towards him, holding her hands behind her back as if they were still tied. Holding his hands behind his back, Rob moved up off the floor.

Stopping dead still, Rob watched with angry eyes as the Captain took a long thin blade, motioning for Ellen to sit up on the bench. Struggling to climb up, she was nearly frozen in fear. Sliding the knife against her bra strap, he pulled the blade tight against the strap. Cutting it loose, he freed her big breasts. Cupping one then the other, he bounced them several times, as if weighing them like a melon. Smirking, he let her breast fall and pointed for them to go out the door.

Bare breasted, her shirt torn open and her panties lost, Ellen walked out with Rob half naked into the bright light, struggling to cover herself with the shards of her shirt. The crew took notice as they pointed laughing. The captain drew a pistol, checking the cylinder to be sure it was loaded. Ellen shook with fear, closing her eyes, tears began running down her cheeks. Stepping closer, he waved the gun to Ellen. The Captain motioned Mai Sun Lee closer, speaking to her while staring at Ellen.

She translated his words with a fake hostility. "You say you have money? How much money will you give me if I let you both go?"

Ellen stuttered through her tears. "I have... uh... I have fifty thousand dollars."

Mai Lee whispered back to him. He looked surprised.

"Very good then. Where is it?" Mai Lee asked.

Ellen looked down. Quietly she replied, "It's at the hotel in Can Tho."

The Captain put the gun back down to his side. Ellen saw that Mai Lee's eyes looked relieved as she continued translating.

"I will send two men to go with you. You will give them the money and they will bring you back here. Your man will wait here with us. If you don't come back with the money, he dies and so do you." Tossing Ellen a crumpled wrap, he walked away.

Ellen nodded fast. Sobbing as she picked up the wrap. A guard stepped quickly, taking her by the hand, shoving her into a rocking boat. Looking at Rob's eyes with horror and sadness, she wept as they sped her away from the junk boat.

Covering with the wrap, Ellen tied it in a knot as the two guards sat silently beside her in the boat. Speeding back to the waterfront, Ellen felt relieved and hopeless at the same time. Maybe they could leave safely, but her sister was impossible to save. Maria was deep in the world of the viscous gang and it would be a greater task than Ellen could ever manage to free her. She felt some brief relief knowing Maria had survived, and in some strange way, living a better life than most mixed children like her. In her heart, she still wanted to bring Maria home, now all hope was lost.

Pulling the boat onto the waterfront shore, the two guards escorted Ellen into her hotel lobby. She looked at the clerk who watched them pass with curious eyes. One of guards shot the clerk a steely glare causing her to quickly look back at the keyboard, pretending not to notice them. On the drug boat, Ellen's quick thinking led them to believe she only had fifty thousand to offer. Now, in the room Ellen knew she would have to get all of the money out of the hiding spot to count out the fifty thousand. Not wanting them to see the rest, she demanded she be alone in the restroom.

"I have to pee," she said holding her groin and hopping.

One man searched the bathroom, glancing around the shower and under the sink cabinet. With a nod, he motioned her in. Locking herself inside, she ran the water as she fished out the hidden cash.

Reaching under the sink, she pulled the thick stack of bills from its secret hiding spot. Quickly thumbing the stack in half she had no time but to simply guess at the amount. Tucking it into her waistband and stuffing the rest back into place, she was ready to face the guards. Flushing the toilet, she came out of the room.

Walking quickly to the bed, she pulled a pillow to her belly. Watching as she pushed her hand into the pillowcase, the men stared. Crushing the pillow against her waist, pretending to pull the bills from the pillow, she discreetly slipped the money from the front of her pants. Tossing the pillow to the bed, she held the bills out. The guard snatched the cash from her hand. Pausing, he looked at it, thumbing through the stack. He looked at the other man, then back at Ellen.

Scanning the room, he picked up the pillows; tearing off the cases, he searched their stuffing. Ellen was sure her ruse worked. Pausing, he studied her as he tossed the torn pillows to the floor. Suddenly he motioned towards the bathroom. One guard shoved her against the wall as the other pushed bathroom door open. After mere minutes of searching, he came back out with the rest of Ellen's money in his hand. She felt panic watching his eyes widen as he held out the remaining stack, fanning out the bills, holding them out for the other man to see.

The guard let loose of Ellen and snatched the money from his partner's hand. Stashing the cash in his pocket, he pulled a shiny knife from his waist. Dead black eyes glared at her as he poised for an attack. Ellen clamped her eyes shut in terror. Holding her breath, she began to pray. Not to a God, but to her father. Her primal instincts focused her thoughts on her dad. She felt he had watched over her all along her journey. Now, facing certain death, she prayed he would hear her again. Ellen squinted one eye open as she heard the man step closer. Looking at her with an evil grimace, he held out his knife towards her. Letting loose an audible whimper, Ellen closed her eyes tight again.

Paralyzed in fear, she shook with a jolt as the loud sound of a knock rattled the door.

"Hello? Check out time! Please check out now or renew your stay with the clerk..."

Ellen's eyes shot wide open. The guard stopped still. Their eyes locked onto one another in mutual silence.

"Hello, Ms. Addison? Ms. Addison, the clerk saw you come in... We know you are here, there is no use ignoring me. Will you please open the door? I don't want to call the police, but I will you know! Last chance... The police will be here soon."

Ellen saw a flash of concern in the guard's eyes as the voice said the word "Police". He must have known what that word meant. She hoped it would be enough to put off his attack. The voice became louder as the knocking continued.

"Ms. Addison, if you don't come down to the clerk and pay... I will have no choice but to send the police to open this room right away. Please Ms. Addison, I don't want to cause trouble, but if you don't come to pay now I will call them..."

The knob twisted back and forth, then the voice went away.

To Ellen's relief, the guard tucked his knife back into his belt. He peeked out the door, waving his partner out with him. The two walked on each side of Ellen, leading her out the rear door. Quickly, they rushed her down to the waterfront and back onto the boat. Whizzing past the junks, they sped back down river. Ellen felt a crushing weight in her heart over the loss of her entire inheritance.

Even if the gang released them, both she and Rob were penniless now, unable to return home. Tucking her head into her forearm, she cried the whole way back. She imagined seeing Rob dead on the gang boat, and her future just as severe in the hands of the deranged drug pirates. They would savagely rape her at will then kill her. She had no more money to offer. Even if they threatened Rob, he had nothing to offer either. In the eyes of the gang, they would be useless eyewitnesses, certainly best not left alive to tell their tale.

Pulling into the cove, the big drug boat came into view. Ellen hoped with all her being Rob was still alive. Bumping to a stop against the junk, she smiled wide as she saw him. He was tied to a post, bleeding in serious pain, but he was alive. Ellen was thrilled with tears of joy upon seeing his face. Her excitement was short lived.

The men yanked her out of the boat by her hair, throwing her face down on the wooden deck. One of the guards gave the fifty thousand dollars to the Captain. He counted it with a thumb as the other's stood silently watching for his next command.

Looking up from the money, he motioned for the men to take Rob. He watched as the crew spoke in Vietnamese, loudly laughing as they untied him from the pole, ushering him to the deck rail. The Captain barked an order. One man quickly drew his rifle, pointing it at Rob's head. Ellen began to sob uncontrollably as the man cocked the gun.

In the intense moment, with no hope left for survival, Ellen yelled out loudly.

"They have stole from you!"

The Captain looked at her sharply, then at Mai Lee.

"They took almost a hundred thousand dollars from me. They only gave you half."

Mai Lee turned to the Captain. In Vietnamese, she repeated what Ellen said.

Waving his hand at the gunman to lower the weapon, the Captain eyed Ellen as he walked over to the guards slowly. Ordering Mai Lee to search the guard's pockets, she pulled out various items, tossing them onto the deck as she searched. Reaching deep into an inside pocket, she paused. Looking towards the Captain, her eyes went wide. He watched as she slowly pulled out a thick stack of bills from the jacket.

Mai Lee handed the money to the Captain with a shaking hand. Slapping it against his palm, he paced the deck. Looking at the bills, he circled the guilty guard. Stopping behind the man, with a fast draw, he pulled the pistol from his pocket, firing a blast into the back of the man's neck. The guard sunk to the floor gasping, blood pulsing out from his ears and mouth, spurting onto the wooden deck. With a kick from his boot, the Captain pushed him over the railing into the water.

Rob and Ellen looked on in horror. Crocs leaped from the nearby bank into the water with a splash, swimming rapidly towards the bleeding guard. Ellen turned her eyes away from the terrible scene as a croc chomped down on the man, rolling with him, showing it's bright underbelly just before disappearing with his body under the murky water. Leaving only bloody swirls circling in his wake.

Tucking the money into his pocket, the Captain pointed to another guard, barking the same order as before. The guard ran over, taking aim at Rob with his rifle. Closing his eyes, Rob thought of the tragedy of a life cut down short before his prime. He thought of Ellen and the love they only begun to share together. His eyes filled with tears as the thoughts ran through his shattered mind. He heard Ellen cry out to him.

"I'm so sorry Rob... I... I love you. I have loved you for years. I will always love you."

The words caused his tears to rush, blurring his vision completely. Standing still, his jaw swelled shut, he could not speak. Ellen cried uncontrollably. Overcoming the pain, Rob called out to her as he stared at the bloody river.

"I love you too Ellen. I truly do."

She heard the words, the next second, she heard the gun blast.

"Ka-Pow!" the shot rang out loud.

Looking up, eyes in shock, Rob felt no pain. He looked down at his shirt... there was no blood. Ellen screamed, watching his face in sheer terror. The guard, still pointing his weapon at Rob, fell to the deck. A small hole in his temple trickled blood. Ducking, the men realized someone was shooting at them. Scurrying around the boat, taking cover, they aimed their guns blindly into the jungle as they looked for the shooter.

The Captain ran to the railing with his pistol, shouting. Maria stood perched high on the roof. From her vantage point, she could see every move as the guards scrabbled to find the hidden shooter. "Blam-Blam!" Two more shots rang out from her rifle, killing one guard instantly and sending bamboo shards into the face of the Captain as her shot narrowly missed his head. Ducking into a small room, he crawled to safety. The crew was still unaware it was Maria who was shooting. Holding her aim steady, through her gun sights Maria guided her muzzle towards the remaining guards. "Dat-Dat-Dat!" her AK fired in fast bursts, taking one guard down, sending the other limping for cover, bleeding badly.

Amidst the gunfire and chaos on the deck, an unknown man was silently scaling the big junk up from the side railing. Climbing aboard, he dashed near Rob.

"That's the guy!" Rob yelled to Ellen.

"The Black Fiat! That's the guy!" he cried out as he watched in open-mouthed wonder.

The Unknown Caller cut Rob's ropes, yanking him towards his waiting boat.

"No! I can't leave Ellen!" Rob yelled fighting back.

Seeing the guards notice him, The Caller ducked behind the bamboo wall, pulling Rob along. Rob made a diving dash back to Ellen, dragging her behind the wall as The Caller fired shots at the crew for cover. Spotting Maria atop the tallest deck, The Caller took aim at her. Ellen watched in horror, suddenly she threw herself onto him, knocking his aim off just as the gun fired.

A wounded guard opened fire in their direction. "Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat!" His gun screamed as it issued a hail of bullets, shredding the bamboo they hid behind. Diving to the deck, The Caller ducked from the barrage of shots, blood spraying from his shoulder. From high in her post, Maria opened up her rifle into the shooter. The bullets tore his shirt to tangles as he fell backwards into the water. The Caller peaked out, realizing the cloaked sniper had just saved him, he looked at her in confusion.

"She's with us! Don't shoot her!" Ellen cried out to The Caller.

"She? With us?" The Caller wondered.

The Captain burst out of the door, firing as he ran. "Bam bam bam!" His pistol fired over and over, miraculously missing them all. The Captain stood in the gun smoke, bravely out in the open. He drew aim at the Caller. Ellen looked up at Maria, still disguised in her hooded garb. Maria pointed her rifle at the Captain and pulled the trigger. A quiet click snapped. Her weapon had jammed.

Still not realizing it was Maria who had slain the guards, the Captain never noticed her failed attempt to shoot him. Standing, smiling at The Caller, the Captain pointed his pistol dead at him. The Caller tucked his head down. Desperately hide as he reloaded his gun. There was nowhere to run, no way to escape. The Captain cocked the hammer. Just as he squeezed the trigger, Mai Lee sprang from the doorway, leaping into the space between them as the shot rang out loud.

Shaking with the anticipation of the bullet searing through him, The Caller clamped his eyes shut tight. Feeling himself over from chest to waist, he looked at the Captain. He was standing still, staring blankly at Mai Lee's body. Through the smoke, Ellen looked at Mai Lee. She was laying motionless on the deck, oozing life in a red pool that spread across the deck, her lips fixed in a smile.

Chambering her gun three times fast, Maria's rifle spit out hot brass rounds, clearing the jam in a split second. She quickly took aim and immediately fired twice into the Captain's back. Ellen and Rob squinted as his hot blood splattered across their faces. Looking on, they saw the Captain's eyes go wide, his chest jutting out as the bullets tore through him. His eyes in wonder, he fell to the deck.

Jumping down from her perch like a cat. Maria ran at top speed over the rails and down the stairs rushing to her mother's side. Turning her over gently, she pulled her mother close to her. Mai Lee looked up smiling.

"I have protected you all I could. Now, you must go. My job is over. Go quickly, you must go to America with your sister..." She gasped as her body oozed its red life onto the deck. "Go now," she whispered. "Live a full life as a beautiful woman, and have children of you own, in a free land. It was only a dream until today... Now it is real." Mai Lee smiled as her eyes closed.

Silent tears fell from Maria's cheeks as she held her dying mother in her arms. Rob looked at Ellen in deep sorrow as Maria pulled her mother's head tight to her breasts. The jungle was dead silent as the gun smoke settled to the deck. Maria held her mother, hugging her until the woman's arms fell limp at her side. Shattering the silence, Ellen burst into tears.

The Caller grabbed Rob's wrist. "We all go now or you and I go alone. Which is it?"

Rob shot a look at Ellen. She jumped up, pulling Maria's arm. Tearing Maria from her mother's lifeless body, the four dashed to The Caller's stolen boat.

"Wait!" Rob cried out loud. "Ellen's money... I have to go back and get it."

The Caller looked up at him as he quickly worked the controls. The engine came to life with a rumble.

"No! There is no time," he said, pointing to the mouth of the cove.

The boat lurched forward; slamming Rob to the floor just as three guard boats came swooping in at full speed. Seeing the blood and dead bodies strewn across the deck, they opened fire on The Caller's speeding craft as it rushed towards them.

Ducking to the floor, Rob shielded Ellen as shots tore through the hull. Maria clicked a full clip into her rifle. Springing up into the hail of bullets, she leaped to the bow of the bouncing boat, showering the drug boats with rapid fire. With shots tearing through the fiberglass all around her, she took steady aim. With a slow trigger pull, she fired a three round burst into the approaching boat's driver. The driver dropped over the side into the water, instantly sending his boat violently sideways, nearly flipping. The Caller quickly steered hard as it swerved into their path, narrowly avoiding crashing into the careening craft.

Turning towards the sea, their boat heaved as it lurched out of the water over the wake. With a whoosh it slammed back down as they headed straight on towards the other two boats.

To Ellen's horror, Maria leapt back up to the bow. Kneeling to steady her aim, she fired at the closest boat's driver with three more fast shots. The rocking of the speeding boat caused her to miss her target. Her rifle clicked empty. With lightening speed she dashed for cover beside Ellen, ducking as flying bullets sent shards of fiberglass into their faces.

Watching through squinting eyes, Ellen and Rob stayed low in their huddled positions as Maria swapped the spent clip for her last full one. Jamming it into place, she sprang back up, resuming her barrage of fire. The Caller pointed his pistol with his free hand, firing rapidly along with her as they passed the boats.

The Caller's fast boat made full speed as they pulled away from their attackers. Most of the gang had been shot, but the two boats that remained were still shooting into and all around their splintering vessel. Maria continued her firing until her gun spit out it's final round. Tossing the weapon to deck, she dived to the floor beside Ellen and Rob. The Caller passed a loaded pistol to Rob. With a nod he motioned for him to pass it up to Maria. Rob handed the gun to Ellen. Ellen took the still warm 45 in her shaking hand. It was the first gun she had ever held. Maria gently took it from her with a nodding smile.

Cocking the hammer, she darted up amidst the hail of bullets splitting the hull. Watching breathlessly in tense fear, Ellen felt panic as Maria took her time taking aim. It seemed unbearable to watch her steady her gun as bullets nicked the hull around her in fast procession, splintering the boat mere inches from Maria's position.

Holding both arms out strong, Maria took careful aim, with a slow squeeze of the trigger; she fired a single round into the driver's head, his boat swerved out of control as he flew backward out of sight. The last boat left was forced to swerve wildly to miss the out of control craft.

The Caller gave Maria a smiling nod of appreciation for her expert shot. Maria didn't return the smile as she turned her barrel back towards the last boat. Trying to hold steady enough to hit the man steering, she aimed from the heaving bow. The Caller's speeding boat was lurching and rocking too rapidly for her to get a shot. Their fast boat was putting distance between them. As their craft pulled away, Maria gave up on the shot, ducking back down next to Ellen. Ellen looked at her with amazement and gratitude. Without a word spoken among them, Ellen held fast to Rob as they sped along in their leaking craft.

Speeding out of the river into the South China Sea, The Caller saw the exhaust smoke as his chartered Sea Plane floating ahead fired its engines. Bouncing over the waves, seawater rushed in from the damaged hull.

"Oh God! We are sinking. Rob I don't think we are going to make it!" Ellen cried out as the water rapidly rose above her feet.

The Caller steered the boat into a collision course with the Sea Plane. Rob and Ellen braced themselves for the impact, watching in total fear as their boat sped straight towards the big pontoons.

Cutting the engine at the last second, The Caller steered their sinking boat parallel, slamming into the pontoon alongside the open door. Nearly flung from the crash, Rob grabbed Ellen as she was falling overboard. Maria leaped up high into the open door of the plane, her warm pistol still in hand. Pulling up Ellen with her free hand, Maria fired at the last boat as it drew closer. The loud shot deafened Ellen's ear as it blasted off so near to her head. The bullet grazed the driver, sending him reeling as the hot lead nicked the side of his face. Rob dove into the plane alongside The Caller just as their bullet-riddled boat began to sink beneath their feet.

The plane roared to life as it slowly began pulling away. The speeding gang boat drew closer. With a laughing smile, the bloody faced guard clicked a machine gun into a tripod. Ellen grabbed Rob, hiding her face in fear. The Caller knew there was no place to hide. Dashing to the side, he shielded his body as best he could from the impending spray of bullets to come. Leaping to the open doorway, Maria pointed her pistol at the man's head with a steady hand. The plane bounced and surged on the waves, but the guard boat roared to catch up. They watched in silent terror as the boat pulled alongside the open cargo door, now a mere few yards from the plane. The terrified group huddled in fear. Maria held her stance in the doorway, still trying to steady her barrel.

They could see the driver's eyes locked into Maria's as he leveled his machine gun at their bodies. Gripping the edge of the doorframe, Maria steadied her rocking stance as she squeezed her trigger... The gun clicked its hammer down with quiet snap. The bleeding driver laughed as he snapped the clip into his weapon. Rob shielded Ellen with a squinting grimace on his face. The Caller began a silent prayer.

In a quick motion, Maria tossed the pistol to the deck with one hand, drawing a shining knife from a secret sheath inside her cloak with the other. Curling her arm behind her head, she deftly flung the blade at the laughing driver just as he gripped his trigger.

Their breathing stopped still, all eyes were riveted, frozen in fear. With a fast flash, Maria's shiny steel blade shot out from her hand. In that tense moment, it seemed as if time stood still. They watched breathlessly as it tumbled through the air in a whirling blur, sticking with a vibrating shiver into the driver's forehead. Dropping his hands, he slumped overboard into the sea. They could see him out of the doorway, his body floated behind them as the plane surged on.

The engine wound up with a giant whir. Pulling off the water under full throttle, the panicked pilot steered the plane straight up as it lifted off the water, slamming the passengers against the rear wall of the cargo hold. Sliding on the wet threshold, Maria was suddenly flung out the open door. Her legs flying out the side, she grabbed to the edge, gripping hard with both hands as the G-Force pulled her towards the sea. Her fingers slowly sliding off the slick metal, Maria knew she would fall.

Seeing her sister falling, Ellen reached fast for her hand. The plane bounced, nearly sending her out the door. Rob crawled towards her with all his strength, desperately holding onto Ellen against the massive pull of gravity. Leaping with all his might, The Caller grabbed Maria by the wrist just as her fingers slipped away. Straining against her hanging weight, he heaved her back to safety inside. They landed atop one another with a thump onto the floor.

The plane began to level out. As it leveled out completely, it began a wide turn to the east, towards the open sea. High above the water, the drifting empty gang boat was a just tiny dot below. They all watched in silence as Vietnam slowly faded into a distant green memory beneath them.
Chapter 23

Rob looked at The Caller; he was holding his bleeding shoulder in agony. Initially they thought he had been shot on the drug boat. Inspecting the wound, Maria found that he had been deeply cut by flying bamboo shards. Removing a big splinter with a small knife, Maria tore strips from her cotton cloak, winding them tightly around his wound. Rob watched as she pulled the dressing tight, slowing the bleeding instantly.

"I don't know who the hell you are man but you just saved our ass!" Rob said to the Caller as he relaxed back against the plane's cargo net.

"You may thank me, but I think we all owe our lives to this mysterious person," he replied, nodding towards Maria.

Rob leaned closer to him. "Why have you been following me? What do you want with me? How can I thank you for rescuing us from that vicious gang?" he asked in wonder.

Rubbing his wound, The Caller smiled. "You should thank her. Without her skills we would have all certainly perished. Besides, I have no need for your gratitude. George will pay handsomely for this trip believe me."

Rob's eyes widened as he shot a look at Ellen.

"George!" Rob said looking back at the Caller. "George sent you to get me?"

The Caller nodded. "Keep you safe, and bring you back. That I did. And now we are flying 400 miles to Bangkok. There, I will get this wound treated and we will pick up a passport for your... talented companion," The Caller said, nodding towards Maria again. "After that, it's five hours on a private flight to Tokyo then twelve hours to Chicago. This time tomorrow you three will be safely delivered in Cincinnati and I will receive my pay. I will be with you every step of the way until then my friend," The Caller said, wincing from the pain as Maria twisted the knot around his arm tighter.

Sitting back in wonder, Rob held Ellen tight.

"That's sounds fine with me. I can't imagine why George wants me back so badly but after this trip, nothing that Ship can ever throw at me will ever be too much again. I can't wait to get back home."

The Caller looked pleased. "I will read you this message," he said thumbing his phone. Reading the text from George aloud, Rob and Ellen listened intensely curious.

"Imperative you return both Anderson and Ellen safely. Saturday afternoon at latest. Spare no expense. Your plane is awaiting instructions."

Ellen felt just as shocked as Rob as they looked at each other in confusion.

"Why would he care about having me there?" Ellen asked Rob.

"I don't know, but at this point, our jobs are our only hope. I don't have a dime to name," Rob replied.

Realizing she was penniless as well, Ellen nodded in agreement. She wondered who this George was and why he so desperately wanted them back on The Ship.

Sitting close beside Ellen, Maria shivered in the cold plane high above the sea. She had seen many killed in her lifetime, more than a few by her own hand. Yet watching her mother die in her arms had softened her soul. Living as a violent gang member for decades had hardened her, she didn't even feel to cry at first. Ellen hugged her warmly.

Only in Ellen's caring embrace did Maria feel her tears begin to show her sadness. Slumping into Ellen's arms, Maria cried deep sobs until she fell asleep. Sobbing silently along with her, Ellen knew her pain. The terrible sadness of losing a loving parent was still fresh in her mind. Sharing Maria's sorrow, the two remained locked in a warm embrace. Looking over at Rob, the only relief Ellen felt was that they were all safe now.

"Tomorrow we will be home," she thought to herself. "Maria is here with us at last. She will have the chance to live a good life, just as her mother and father always wished for her. Her mother died for her to live a new life. And our dad... He is always with me and I know he will be watching over us both now."

Rubbing Maria's sleeping shaven head, Ellen watched as Rob slept despite being tossed and churned by the plane. She couldn't believe he had gone to such much trouble to find her. He came to her rescue, willing to sacrifice everything, even his life, just as she had done for Maria. There was a powerful bond between them all now.

The unplanned adventure was over. A terrible price had been paid to bring Maria to the US. The tragic death of Mai Sun Lee, plus Ellen's entire inheritance was lost forever, along with Rob's hard earned savings.

They were returning home in sorrow, broke, beaten and bleeding, but returning together nonetheless. Now, all that was left was to pick up the pieces and patch their lives back together again. Her jaw throbbing in pain and her eyes heavy, Ellen drifted to sleep holding Maria. Bouncing in the cold roaring plane with her eyes closed, she thought about the terrible cost of the trip.

"Perhaps it's not the pain and sorrow of today that matters most in life, but the new beginning that awaits. Tomorrow will be a brand new day."

It was the only thought that mattered to her now.

Continued in Book 3 – Square One
If you enjoyed this book (or even if not) please post a review and share your thoughts about the work. If you really enjoyed this book, there are more books in the series. The author truly thanks you for reading.

More Brand New Day Series Books

Brand New Day:

Book 1 – Falling Apart

Book 2 – Coming Together

Book 3 – Square One

Book 4 – Trial By Fire

Book 5 – Ties That Bind

Book 6 – New Horizons

Author Bio

From the beaches to the mountain tops, Wren Rogers has traveled much of the country eating, drinking, cooking, bartending and writing. He currently lives, works and writes in Cincinnati Ohio. Cincy residents may be familiar with his work from his six year tenor as a featured writer for Cincy Vibe Magazine.

While currently residing in Cincinnati near to family, Wren often longs to permanently move back to the city he considers the "Best Damn Place to Live in the US"... Las Vegas Nevada.

"Of all the cities I've spent any amount of time in, Vegas is by far the very best (all things considered). If money was no object, certain cities in California come close. However, considering the lifestyle and cost of living, Vegas trumps the rest for me. Vegas is still the only city that enjoys a weekly calendar of all Saturdays. There simply are no weekdays there (and they have no idea what a sleepy Sunday afternoon or a dreadfully boring Monday night is). I dream near daily of a triumphant final return, yet still I live in the sharpest contrast to that wonderful desert town, cloudy Cincinnati.

Cincinnati doesn't offer even a fraction of the food, music, entertainment, beauty or sunshine of Vegas, but it does have a few interesting characters and handful of hidden food gems. If you spend as many years here as I have, and you have the gumption to dig in the grime, you will discover them all eventually. As far as the music, entertainment, beauty and sunshine... you needn't bother attempting to compare as there isn't any comparison to speak of. I know this well as over five years of my life was dedicated to discovering and writing about the music and food scene in and around Porkopolis. I've run the gamut of the cities diamonds and dives more times than I ever care to do again.

Writing magazine articles was a challenge compared to writing a novel. I had to spell out enough vivid detail to provide the reader with a total encompassing picture, yet keep it super-short and simple. Writing, cutting, reading, then cutting more, then finding ways to eliminate a few more words was standard with every issue. When you have a fixed number of characters to write in, things get tense quick. I learned to crop and trim every syllable possible, yet keep the power of the sentence intact. I learned to like it too. That short and sweet writing style has carried over into my novel series.

I prefer "Plain Speak" to poetic adjective laden prose. I prefer real life plot lines to fantastic impossible scenarios. I prefer stories about real people rather than zombies, vampires, superheroes or any other such imaginary character. I watch and read documentary's almost exclusively. To me, the most interesting stories are about the weird, the strange and the unlikely. The downtrodden that against all odds manage to rise up. The little people, that either made good, or are still trying. Not to mention the ones that gave up and went criminal. I'm more interested in what's cooking in the darkest corner of the most forgotten alley than I am about the newest burrito joint to occupy Downtown Main Street. I'd much rather listen to a local band than ever tune in to a top 40 artist. I'm a hopeless romantic happily rooting for the plain ole' hopeless.

The Brand New Day series is my debut fiction work. Don't let the category of "fiction" fool you. The BND series is one perspective of Cincinnati life many locals will find just a little-too-true to be dismissed as pure fiction. I based nearly all of the characters on real people. The streets and settings are mostly real as well. Even the descriptions of the food, businesses, landscapes and weather are accurate. I took great care to make the series factual as possible. You may be wondering... "Is there really a George, Rob and Ellen?" "Did these things really take place?" All I can say is, Yes. And No. Some did, some are a stretch of imagination. However, by percentage, more than less is entirely true.

In fact, all of the fiction I write could be loosely called "semi-documentary". I imagine it always will be. I can't wait to see what new novel series unfolds under my fingers when I finally decide to write a second work set in the greatest city that ever glimmered under a US sky... Las Vegas. There's little need for fiction when writing about the people, chefs, bartenders, dealers, cabbies, crazies, comics and adventures that run rampant throughout that town. Of course I'd have to be there again to really dig deep and discover the details to get a story worth writing.

Writing the BND series took two hard years. Every evening from 6-midnight and every weekend from morning until dawn was spent on this work. To merit that effort on a second work, this first series must show promise and that isn't easy for a no-name self-published author bobbing in a sea of ebooks that multiplies in swells daily.

My only hope is that the people who do bother to read my work will leave a review to attract others. Since reviews are basically all that can push a no-name little guy like me anywhere near the top, it's all I can hope for. Considering that only my readers can leave reviews, in a very real sense, my entire literary future is in your hands... Now isn't that some shit?

