tagNonConsent/ReluctanceLast Mission Ch. 02

Last Mission Ch. 02


The Green Dragon gang was a highly-structured organization. At the top was the Dragonhead, Johnny Chan, who was based in Hong Kong. Decades ago, his father had founded the gang in Shenzhen, then a small town in China, just across the border from Hong Kong. Senior Chan ran it for 20 years, eventually dying in a brutal gang war that broke out in the early eighties when China first opened its doors to Western-style capitalism. When he died, his only son, Johnny, was sitting for his bar examination in Dallas, Texas. He had just finished law school in SMU.

After the funeral, Johnny moved half of the Green Dragon remnants to Hong Kong. The other half stayed in Shenzhen. Before his unforeseen death, his father had squirreled away millions in Switzerland. Johnny used the money to good effect, muscling his way into the Hong Kong nightclub market. The gangs in Hong Kong were no match for the brutality and discipline of his men born in mainland China. In just five years, the young Johnny had rebuilt the gang so it was now almost as big as his father's. Even better, most of its income came from legitimate businesses in Hong Kong. Only his men in Shenzhen, involved in petty theft and stolen cars, operated outside the law.

With the business in Hong Kong stable and profitable, Johnny turned his intellectual firepower to Shenzhen. He knew he had to either restructure the small-time operations there, or close it down. Unlike his dad, he did not want to be involved in the usual large-scale criminal businesses. Drugs, guns, gambling, and loansharking were all violent, dangerous, and attracted the unwanted attention of the Chinese authorities.

But the flesh trade attracted his attention. In his analysis, there was a growing Chinese demand for white women from North America. Any blonde-haired woman with a little cleavage would satisfy the curiosity of the newly rich Chinese businessman. Best of all, the risks were low and the profit margins high. Part of the reason for this was that the barriers of entry for a Chinese gang were substantial. At the time, not many Chinese had contacts in the Western world.

To be successful, Johnny would need to reactivate his old contacts from law school. Fortunately for him, some of his old SMU classmates were still struggling to pay off their student loans. He contacted Jeffrey Giordano, who worked as a public defender, and dangled in front of him the prospect of a trip to Hong Kong. Jeff was deeply impressed when Johnny met him in a meeting room on the fifty-fifth floor of a building in downtown Hong Kong.

"Hey Jeff, how have you been all these years?" Johnny spoke with barely an accent.

"Johnny! It's good to see you again." Jeff could not help staring out the window to the Hong Kong skyline. "You must be doing really well."

"Well, the economy is a little soft, but we're managing." One of Johnny's role model was Teddy Roosevelt. Johnny believed the best approach for business was to speak humbly but carry a big gun.

"It's even worse stateside. Some of our classmates took years to find jobs after law school. A few of them had to declare bankruptcies when their student loans kicked in." The effects of jetlag were beginning to hit Jeff. There was an awkward pause before he continued. "I was lucky to find a government job."

"How's your lovely wife and charming kids?" Law school taught Johnny that a good attorney would never ask a question he did not know the answer to. Johnny was aware that Jeff was divorced and that his ex-wife had full legal and physical custody of the kids.

"Johnny, if you don't mind, I don't want to talk about it."

"Of course," Johnny said in an apologetic way. "Jeff, you should get some rest after that horribly long flight. I'll ask my driver to help you check in. We'll see each other tomorrow night."

"Johnny, I know you did not bring me here just to ask about my family. Do you have a business proposal in mind?" Jeff may be tired but his mind was still sharp.

"We'll have dinner tomorrow and talk about it. You'll like the offer." Johnny stood up. "Let me ride the elevator with you. My driver is already waiting for you."

The next evening, Johnny shared the details of his plan. Jeffrey was glad he had made the trip. He'd be the point man in Johnny's ambitious plan to expand to North America. With his background as a criminal defense attorney, Jeffrey Giordano was the ideal man for the job. He knew all the capable ex-cons willing to sign up.

With Johnny's money and Jeffrey's contacts, Johnny and Jeff, affectionately called J&J in the underworld, dominated the two-way trade of women across the Pacific. Young Chinese women, lured with promises of high-paying modeling jobs in the U.S., ended up servicing the ever-growing American male appetite in smooth yellow skin. The return traffic was newer but equally strong. White women were kidnapped and smuggled into booming cities along the coast of the South China Sea. The victimized women were almost always poor, uneducated, and ignored by law enforcement.

By the late 1990s, Jeff had helped Johnny expand his empire to seven cities in America. Jeff was so capable Johnny had not visited the U.S. since he was a law student. Jeff recruited Rocky and the six other chiefs, who ran the operations seamlessly. They had never met Johnny and had no idea what he looked like. They only knew him as Mr. Chan.

Rocky knew Mr. Chan and Jeff were watching the live feed of Susan dangling from the ceiling. For the first time in his criminal career, Rocky had the honor of hosting the other bosses of the country in East Texas. Rocky had long felt that Green Dragon associates in New York, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Philadelphia, Chicago, and Boston did not respect the brothers in Dallas. After today, that would change. For Rocky, his time had come.

Somebody had questioned Rocky's ability and dared to send an assassin to kill him, someone who knew about his weakness for slutty women. But they had badly underestimated Green Dragon Dallas. Rocky had a first-rate crew who turned the tables on the hit woman. Although Rocky got a huge break because of Paul's treachery, Rocky did not believe in luck. He believed that a smart and driven man like him manufactured his own luck.

Rocky's thoughts were interrupted by a convoy of six vehicles. Each bulletproof Hummer carried a Green Dragon chief and his bodyguard. One by one, each of the six chiefs stepped out, followed by the bodyguards. Ivan the Russian, together with half a dozen Mexican men, helped them remove their blindfolds. Nobody grumbled because security was taken seriously by the gang. The visitors took a minute to adjust to the bright Texan sunlight.

"Hello, brothers. Welcome to the farm." Rocky took his time to hug each brother in turn, starting with the boss of New York and ending with Boston, in exact order of the size of each business. "Please come inside." Rocky led the group into the huge lobby occupying the entire first floor of the house. Ivan entered the house last. The Mexicans remained outside.

Ivan pushed a remote-control button. The image of Susan instantly filled up the wall. "For the first time in the history of Green Dragon USA," Rocky spoke with a formal tone, "one of our enemies put out a contract on a boss of the Green Dragon."

"This is outrageous," The boss of New York Joey Laria spoke up. "An attack on one of us is an attack on all of us." All the other bosses voiced their agreements. "And to add insult to injury, they sent a woman. What the fuck were they thinking?"

"Fortunately, she failed. Our brothers in Dallas are well informed," Rocky continued. "We knew she was coming days before, giving us a chance to set up a traitor to be killed. Donald, our assistant boss of San Antonio, had been seen talking to an FBI agent. We set it up so she thought Don was the Dallas boss. I was in the room when she killed Don."

"How did you trick her into thinking Don was you?" Joey asked.

"Her partner sold her out. He fed her the wrong information."

"Does the dumb blondie know she killed the wrong guy?" Joey seemed to be the spokesperson of all the other bosses.

"No. She also does not know her partner betrayed her."

"I'm not surprised she trusted the wrong man. After all, she's a woman. Women have bad judgments." The other bosses nodded in unison. Joey continued, "Besides, they're too soft and weak to operate in the criminal world."

Rocky did not agree with the last sentence because he had seen her in action. But he decided it was not a good idea to disagree with Joey in front of all the bosses.

"I would like to suggest we do not tell her about what I just told y'all." Rocky said with a respectful tone.

"Rocky, we are all honored to be here. This whore is really your business. We'd do whatever you want." Again, Joey spoke for the group. "Have you found out who hired her?"

"She and her former partner had been contract killers for the last five years. They are especially dangerous because they kill only people associated with major felonies." Rocky regretted his choice of words because his audience might not understand; he wished he had simply used the word crimes.

"You are avoiding my question. I guess your people don't have the street credibility to find out. What don't you come right out and say you don't know who's behind her?" Joey was pushing the envelope on acceptable behavior among bosses.

"Not yet. But we have the means to make her talk." Rocky took the high ground, remaining composed. "We have not interrogated her out of respect for all the bosses."

"Good speech," Joey applauded. The rest felt obliged to join in. "Let's cut the crap and make the bitch wish she was never born."

"I'm so honored everyone is here," Rocky maintained his deferential voice. "In a minute, we'll go down to the basement. Each of you should feel free to do to her anything you want. I only ask that she be kept alive."

The seven bosses went down the basement while the bodyguards relaxed in the lobby. Joey put one arm around Rocky, congratulating him for capturing her alive. The bosses sat down, except Los Angeles and San Francisco. The two west coast bosses, who joined the gang at the same time, stood on opposite sides of Susan. LA stood behind Susan, cupping his hands around her breasts, his manhood pushing against the small of her back.

"Beg for mercy and we'll go easy on you." SF licked her left ear and whispered to her.

She jerked to the left and spit at SF, her eyes defiant. The men on the sofa laughed at SF.

"Spitting at people," LA spoke loudly enough so the other bosses could hear him, "is not something a proper lady does." He looked at SF and said, "It's time to teach this cheap whore some manners. Get her on her knees and make her beg."

SF went to the pulley handle and lowered her hands. LA kicked hard at the bamboo attached to her knees, breaking it into two and freeing her legs. Both men stood triumphantly in front of her, grinning and intending to forcibly push her to her knees.

Seizing the opportunity, Susan used her freed legs to kick LA in the crotch. LA bent over in pain, letting out an unmanly scream. Before SF could react, she pivoted and swung on her cuffed wrists, kicking SF on the chest. Both men lost their balance, their bodies falling in slow motion, their arms and legs twisted together like a bad car wreck. Witnessing the incredible scene, the other city bosses burst out in roaring laughter. Joey left his chair and rolled on the ground, laughing until he choked and coughed.

"You motherfuckers are really not big enough to handle her," Joey said after he recovered his breath. "Why don't you novices sit down? Boston and Philly, you guys go show these west coast sissies how to fuck a cunt." Another burst of laughter came from the seated men.

LA and SF was humiliated and reluctantly sat down. Philly got up, followed by Boston. Susan realized that Joey was the de-facto boss of the American city bosses. Without Joey, Green Dragon USA would quickly collapse as rival gangs in each city muscle into the lucrative flesh trade.

Boston produced a knife as he barked, "Stay still or I'll slice off your tits, cook them, and force you to eat them." Susan did a quick calculation and froze. She felt Boston's breath on her neck, his knife hovering near the soft tissue of her right breast. Susan took a second to memorize that he was right-handed, a tiny detail that might make a difference if the chance to escape comes.

"Get down on your knees and beg." Philly ordered. His face was oily, just like a Philly cheesesteak, another memory aid for Susan. He smelled like French fries.

To show they meant business, Boston pressed the tip of the cold steel an inch from her nipple, breaking the top layer of the skin. A thin line of blood drifted lazily to her navel. She bent her knees and slowly lowered herself. As she did so, Boston's knife explored the peaks and valleys of her chest, his left fingers casually flicked her nipples. When the chains on her hands were fully extended, her knees were still a couple of inches from the cement floor.

Rocky immediately saw the problem. He walked to the center of the room, carrying two new handcuffs, the key to the old cuffs, and a nylon rope.

Boston, who had worked with Rocky before Rocky's recent promotion, knew the drill. Shielding his knife, Boston yanked at Susan's hair, jerking her face upwards. Boston other hand went under her armpit, squeezed her right nipple, and twisted it hard. Susan let out an involuntary cry. With her mouth opened, Rocky stuffed the gun deep into her mouth.

"Stand up straight." Philly, who had also knew Rocky's style, took charge of the situation. "When we release your hands, cross them behind your back. Try anything stupid and Boston will leave a long scar on your face." Susan knew the last sentence was a promise, not a threat. The merciless brutality of the east coast wise guys was notorious.

The first pair of police-issued handcuffs locked her wrists behind her. The second set was used in an unusually cruel way. Her elbows were forced together until they touched, the handcuffs applied just above her elbows before they sprang back. Paul had told Rocky she was a black belt in karate. Locked down like this, it would be impossible for her to wiggle her wrists to the front. She was on her knees, but her legs were still free.

"Don't forget the legs, Boston." Rocky said with his index finger next to the trigger, the barrel of the gun still in Susan's mouth. Boston gathered the ropes, tied her ankles together, and wrapped the other end around her neck. With the modified neck-and-ankle hogtie, she was trapped in a kneeling position, unable to stand up. She spread her knees slightly apart to balance herself.

"Philly, she's now in a begging position." Rocky projected his voice so everyone in the room could hear him. "Let's see what you east coast guys got."

"That's sound like a challenge," Joey stood up. "Go sit down and let us show you." Joey blasted out of the sofa and motioned Rocky to get out of the way. Rocky sat next to Chicago. The west coast boys remained in their seats, defeated and crushed.

Susan was relieved to have the gun out of her mouth. She braced herself for Joey. Mentally, she filed away that Joey was in charged, even though this was Rocky's turf. Joey reminded Susan of Old Spice as his open palm connected with her right cheek. Her mind instinctively made a note that Joey was a southpaw.

With her wrists, elbows, ankles, and neck tightly restraint, she toppled and crashed sideways on the cement floor. "Get back to your kneeling position, you pathetic slut." Joey hollered as he enjoyed the sight of her tight muscles in her abs, back, and shoulders straining to recover her position.

"Do you need help?" Philly asked wickedly as he kicked her on her stomach just as she was about to balance on her knees. Boston joined in by punching her face. When Joey picked her up by her hair, she choked and coughed out blood. A line from her nose dripped blood to the floor.

Joey steadied her and held her firmly on her knees. "I want you, in your most slutty voice, to beg to be fucked with a real cock." He slipped two fingers into her to emphasize the point. She was dry and felt the scratch of his filthy fingernails.

Susan knew the gang would eventually break her. But it was important to hold out as long as possible. "The only way your tiny dick can get into my cunt is to tie me down like an animal. Release me and let's see how much of a man you really are. Or go fuck your own mother." Joey was taken aback by her response. He had never met anyone, man or woman, who dared to question his manhood. He was going to have to punish her. She had made it personal.

Johnny Chan, who was watching the scene on his 80-inch screen 13 time zones away, decided to intervene before the hothead Joey killed her. He wanted her alive to find out who the real enemy was. Johnny punched a long string of numbers, waiting anxiously as he saw Joey remove his thick leather belt. The belt landed repeatedly on her chest, drawing fresh blood where the gold buckle struck.

Paul, also 13 time zones away, was not watching the live feed of Susan's ordeal. But he knew where she was. Unknown to Rocky, Paul knew the exact location of the farm.

Rocky's phone vibrated.

"Rocky, it's me," Rocky recognized the voice immediately.

"Mr. Chan, what would you like us to do?" Rocky stammered a little.

"Pass the phone to Joey."

By the time Rocky got Joey's attention, Joey had strangled her until she passed out.


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