Judoka

A Sequel to Blood Memory

“Well, where you off too now that ya’re free, Chinese Conan?”

The large muscular Asian man snatched the package given to him by the old jail officer. He signed the admin paperwork acknowledging his personal items.

“Mongol…not Han.” He simply stated in his broken English. He turned his back from the security intake desk and walked the long ill lit corridor towards the exit of that gray institution. The place that had been his home for the past ten months.

“Well, whatever, don’t come back, Genghis Khan. The infirmary nurse will be glad to know you won’t be sending any more business her way.” The jailer chuckled before turning his attention to a ringing desk phone.

The sunlight was overpowering and Ganbat took note that he would need a new pair of sunglasses since the last pair were broken when he was arrested many months ago in Falls Church. The air was humid. Virginia was experiencing an Indian summer. Fall would arrive late.

Ganbat stopped and allowed the hot sun to embrace his face. Before exiting the detention center, he had been allowed to change into the black business suit and white button down he had been arrested in. The jail had lost his tie.

“Thank you, Tengri. I know I owe you for my freedom. I shall repay you in blood sacrifice, this I swear,” he mumbled the oath to the god of his ancestors. A few curious pedestrians on the sidewalk impolitely stared at the massive mongolian and quickly walked back to their government jobs in the county justice center. The Mongolian language can sound harsh and threatening to a casual listener.

Ganbat continued his emancipation walk. He had no idea where he was going but it didn’t matter. He was no longer behind concrete walls and locked cells.

As he walked by a large visitor parking lot, an idling vehicle caught his attention. He recognized it immediately. The black Lincoln Town car was just as he remembered it.

The vehicle slid forward and the tinted driver’s side window rolled down.

A comely, petite Vietnamese woman who could be anywhere from sixteen to thirty stuck her dark pixie haired head out the window. She gave Ganbat a full lipped grin.

“Yeah, my uncle said that I wouldn’t have a hard time spotting you. A satellite could spot your image from space, dude. Mr. Ganbat, I presume.” Ganbat gave a grunt in response.

“Just Ganbat…you know, Mr. Vo?” he demanded.

“Sure, he’s my uncle! I’m Lucy Vo. He asked me to pick you up. Uncle wanted to be here himself but he is in Southeast Asia on a business trip. Let’s take this beauty for a ride, big guy!” Ganbat was skeptical.

He had just spent several months in a place where one’s trust was not readily given. A few of the other detainees tried testing Ganbat’s trust and found that he could be as unforgiving as the steppe in winter.

Lucy intuited his skepticism.

“Ganbat, the reason why you are free is my uncle’s attorneys used whatever legal shenanigans they had to get you off. They convinced the judge those guys you whacked were going to assassinate my uncle and they worked for a Chinese crime lord, or something. Anyway, it worked! You’re now a free man and my uncle wants to show his gratitude.”

Ganbat grunted again but he opened the passenger side door and got in. The stiff leather seat groaned in protest. As the Lincoln pulled out of the judicial center, Lucy aimed it west. They meandered along Fairfax Boulevard and Ganbat was greeted by old familiar sights: cheap motels, neverending strip malls full of chain restaurants and bars, as well as the occasional mid-range apartment complex.

“Hey, you hungry? My uncle told me to feed you, whatever you want. It’s on his expense account. There’s a Mongolian grill about five miles from here,” she laughed at her own joke.

“Wendee’s,” Ganbat demanded.

“You’re kidding me?!? We can go anywhere, Ganbat…”

“Wendee’s!”

“Alright, alright, there’s one coming up. Sheesh.”

They sat in line at the Wendy’s drive thru and Ganbat told Lucy he wanted two bacon cheddar melts and a chocolate frosty. Lucy decided a chocolate frosty wasn’t a bad idea and got one for herself.

Once the food arrived they sat in a well shaded spot in the busy parking lot and ate. Ganbat chewed his food slowly, Lucy noticed that everything he did was deliberate and methodical.

“So, Ganbat…my uncle said that you used to run a judo dojo in Alexandria and before that, you were some sort of border cop in Mongolia. Is that true?”

Ganbat swallowed some meat, burped and then grunted. Lucy rolled her eyes.

“You are quite the conversationalist. Oh, you want to know about me? Well, that’s fantastic, thanks for asking. So…I grew up here in Fairfax, I am currently getting my MBA at George Mason University. I’ve been working for my uncle since I completed undergrad about five years ago. I do a variety of odd jobs for my uncle’s various business interests, everything from marketing to project management and…” Lucy looked over and noticed Gabat had finished his meal and pulled something out of the cardboard package given to him at the jail.

It was the most beautiful piece of art Lucy had ever seen. It appeared to be made of some sort of lacquered wood with the image of a yellow horse in mid stride. The horse was elaborate and held something on its back, she could not quite make out, an altar perhaps? The background was painted blue and green, to symbolize sky and ground, Lucy assumed. There were also archaic symbols etched around the horse and the border was colored with gold paint.

The image was mesmerizing.

“Whoa, that is some piece of work? That from your homeland, Ganbat?” Ganbat snapped back into the present. He slipped his holy object into the inner pocket of his business jacket.

“Tengri,” he stated and the town car seemed to get even colder when he breathed this word aloud. Lucy turned down the air conditioning.

“Well, anyway. If you are finished, we need to talk about a few things.” Ganbat nodded. He stepped out of the town car and threw away their fast food trash in a bin. When he came back, Ganbat turned his solid chest towards her and gave her his undivided attention. Lucy felt his stare boring into her mind.

“Sooo…this is a bit awkward for me. I know you served as my uncle’s chauffeur and bodyguard before your arrest and based on what happened at the Children’s Festival last year, you did a helluva bang up job, quite literally. Anyway, sometimes, my uncle likes to do things without involving the local authorities. You know what he did during the war. He believes in policing his own assets and holdings.”

“Mr. Vo, very important man, such men have many enemies, enemies who sometimes kill.” Lucy Vo’s large eyes went even wider.

“Woah! The statue does speak! Yes, as an immigrant businessman others will sometimes try to take advantage of him, assuming him to be meek and mild. They don’t realize uncle was an ARVN intelligence officer who straight up interrogated and executed communist mutherfuckers!”

Ganbat grunted his assent.

“Anyway, my uncle hopes you will return to being his chauffeur and bodyguard. Also, there is the issue of housing. Uncle attempted to keep your apartment intact but your lease expired when you were in jail. The leasing company knew about what happened at the festival and made it clear to my uncle that you were no longer allowed on their property. I am afraid they took possession of your furniture and clothes. We don’t know what they did with your stuff but I am afraid it is lost.” To Lucy’s surprise, Ganbat merely shrugged.

“Furniture was junk, I buy more clothes. I will serve Mr. Vo again.” Lucy grinned.

“Excellent! I didn’t realize you would be so zen about what happened to your place. I guess you weren’t that attached to it. So now we need to talk about your new apartment.”

Ganbat looked at her quizzically with a cocked eyebrow.

“My uncle owns some apartments, not many, he prefers holding commercial real estate, as I’m sure you’re aware. Anyway, there is this one apartment, a two bedroom that has a few current tenants that are less than ideal. They stopped paying rent months ago and have now become squatters. There were only two people listed on the lease and there are now at least four unauthorized occupants.”

“Mr. Vo no evict?”

“He can’t, the Sheriff won’t evict without a court’s say so and the court demands notice before they issue any legal documents. Everytime my uncle sends someone over there to serve notice, they get beaten up. You see these squatters…they are Vietnamese bikers and usually high on methamphetamine. Very dangerous dudes.”

Ganbat immediately understood the situation…and he understood the task asked of him by his employer.

“I persuade.”

Lucy released the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding.

“Excellent! But my uncle said no killing. No guns or weapons are to be brought on the property. Once you evict them, the apartment becomes yours to live in.”

Ganbat smiled. He always liked Mr. Vo’s wiliness.

“Take me there, I evict bikers.” Lucy gave him a salute and aimed the town car for West Falls Church.

In large bold white letters the sign stated: Eden Gardens Apartments…a private community to call your own. It was a quiet complex with only a handful of buildings.

Lucy pulled the town car into an empty parking space under a large oak tree near a deserted tennis court. She nodded towards a large four story building with both solid red brick and cheap vinyl sliding.

“The front door is in that inner courtyard. First floor apartment, number one zero four. Do you have, like a plan? Have you ever done anything like this before?” Ganbat smirked and this unnerved Lucy even more.

“In border police, I deal with truckers and bikers. I handle.” Ganbat exited the car and he stretched out his back and did a few quick stretches.

Lucy was becoming more nervous, she felt that she could call her uncle and tell him what a horrible plan this had been from the start. But it was too late.

Ganbat marched purposely towards the first floor apartment. He passed four Suzuki Hayabusa bikes, in two tone black and red, filing away this information in his mind.

Lucy made up her mind and began following the mongol at a respectable distance. She wished she had worn something more athletic than a skirt, blouse and pumps.

Ganbat arrived in front of the unadorned cream colored door and inspected it with a keen eye. Lucy was about to ask what his highly cunning plan entailed when Ganbat leaned back and unleashed a powerful front kick aimed at just under the door knob.

Lucy heard metal and wood shift and splinter. Ganbat kicked one more time and then slammed his shoulder against the door. Lucy lost sight of him as the door flew inward and Ganbat rushed in after it. The bellow he emitted made Lucy’s bowels shift.

She heard several voices but could only make out various curses in Vietnamese.

Lucy gingerly came around the corner to peer inside. She barely had time to duck when a slender young man in leather pants and a muscle tee came flying through the air past her. He hit the brick wall of the courtyard and slid down into cement. He groggily stood up, his eyes unfocused, mouth bleeding due to the loss of several teeth. He shook his head several times, finally, he screamed an oath in Vietnamese and ran back inside the apartment.

Mayhem ensured.

Lucy witnessed a leather clad young man jumping on to Ganbat’s back, another grabbing for his leg, a third punching him and a fourth kicking him. Ganbat’s face was serene. He did not curse at the young bikers. He was eerily silent as he worked.

Ganbat easily shifted his hip and tossed the biker on his back and into a hard, heavy fabric sofa. He punched the kicker in the throat and kicked his other opponent, the puncher in the groin.

The biker that had been thrown outside tried a single leg take down but Ganbat allowed this and rolled on his back. Before the biker could follow up, he placed his foot on the young man’s abdomen and grabbed his upper arms, Ganbat flipped him overhead.

Once again the young man was launched into the air. This time he hit a mahogany dining room table, breaking it in half. He stayed conscious but did not move from the floor.

Lucy thought she could hear him crying.

The bikers attempted to rally but their hearts were not into it. Ganbat head butted a few and finally slapped them when they attempted to stand up. They sat on a dirty, stained carpet, dazed and bloody. They all wore black leather pants, biker boots and tee shirts or muscle tees, but looked more like berated children than a criminal biker gang. Lucy had to stifle a laugh. She stood over them and gave them a hard stare.

“Gentlemen, Mr. Long Vo, your landlord, has now officially evicted you from his property, if you ever come back.” Lucy Vo made a cut throat sign with her right forefinger and then pointed at the imposing figure of Ganbat. The heavily bruised and bleeding bikers nodded their heads vigorously. They sprinted or hobbled to the parking lot. All of them jumped on their Suzuki Hayabusa bikes and screamed out of the parking lot.

Lucy Vo crossed her arms and a smug look came over her delicate featured face.

“Ganbat, I feel like you and I are going to make a fine team.”

Ganbat grunted. He reached into jacket pocket and spread the blood of the bikers, which were on his fingertips onto the image of his god.

In his mind, he professed his prayer: Life is uncertain, ever evolving. Only Tengri is constant.

The Short Story Blood Memory can be found in my book:

Now Out On Amazon!