Both assailants had their guns ready.
'Come out of there, you two,' the skinny one called.
'Yeah, come out, come out, wherever you are!' his friend chimed in, laughing.
The two hoods stepped into the dining room area with their terrified hostages.
Leah recoiled in the corner of the booth. Sitting up straight, Jared switched off his cell phone and nervously stared back at them.
'Get up,' the skinny guy whispered. With one hand, he had the trembling busboy in a choke hold. With the other, he pointed a gun at Leah and Jared. 'Get the hell up,' he repeated. 'We're gonna stick all of you in the restroom for safekeeping.'
But neither Jared nor Leah moved. Her heart was racing.
The tall, ugly gunman violently shoved the busboy to one side. The young man collided into a table, knocking it over. Glasses, plates, and silverware flew in every direction. He hit his head on the top of a chair, then fell to the floor, unconscious.
The stocky one cackled. Following his friend's lead, he hurled the poor waitress toward another table. The petite girl slammed into a chair, but somehow managed to keep from falling. Wincing in pain, she clung to the chair and caught her breath.
Horrified, Leah sat frozen in the booth, watching it all.
'Yahoo!' the hulky guy yelled. He swiveled around and fired his gun three times--at the large fish tank. There was an explosion of glass and water. He must have hit some electrical wiring, because sparks shot out from the top of the tank. There was a loud bang, and the lights in the restaurant flickered. Water gushed from the broken receptacle, and suddenly the restaurant floor was a quarter-inch deep in water and flopping, floundering exotic fish.
The stupid thug seemed to think this was hysterical, but his skinny friend was visibly annoyed with him. He glanced down at all the water and the fish twitching at his feet. Still chuckling, his buddy went to step on one of them.
Leah gazed at them. Then she turned and glanced at the stainless-steel teapot on their table. Something kicked in--maybe anger, maybe a survival instinct. Whatever it was, she suddenly grabbed that teapot by the handle and flung it at the tall man's face.
She was close enough to hit her stationary target dead-on. The lid flew off just as the pot struck his cheek. He let out a startled howl. Scalding tea splashed his face. It must have burned his eyes, because he dropped the gun and immediately covered his eye sockets. Staggering back, he spewed a stream of obscenities--between loud, high-pitched, agonizing shrieks.
Before the stocky guy seemed to realize what was happening, Jared shot out of the booth and rammed into him. The body blow sent him careening toward the broken fish tank. They tipped over chairs and tables in their path.
Meanwhile, Leah snatched up the tall thug's revolver. She almost slipped on the wet floor, but caught her balance. The tall man wasn't so lucky. He blindly staggered around the dining room until he tripped over a chair. He fell down on his knees.
Leah aimed the gun at him, but hesitated before pulling the trigger. He was incapacitated, defeated. The guy couldn't hurt anyone now.
But apparently, the waitress didn't feel that way. Wiping her tears, the delicate young woman picked up a chair and cracked it over his head.
The man collapsed on the wet floor. A couple of fish struggled and splashed around him in the thin layer of water.
'Son of a bitch!' bellowed the stocky thug--over the clatter of dining room furniture.
Leah swiveled around in time to see him punch Jared in the face. His fist connected with Jared's eye. He staggered back from the blow, but didn't collapse. Wincing, Leah aimed the gun at the big man, but Jared charged him again. Jared slugged him in the gut--a sucker punch.
The chubby man reeled back and grabbed the top of the shattered fish tank to steady himself.
Suddenly, the lights flickered again, and the big man froze. His mouth opened in a silent scream. He started to shake violently as the electric currents raced through his body. Sparks arced out from where he clutched the top of the fish tank.
Jared started to back away. Leah reached out to her fiance, touching his shoulder. He turned and wrapped his arms around her. Clinging to each other, they tried to catch their breath. But they couldn't yet.
Only a few feet in front of them, the thug stood with his hand seared on top of the fish tank. Spasms racked his body. He wouldn't stop twitching and convulsing, and yet that stunned expression seemed stuck on his oafish face. His skin turned red. Smoke enveloped his feet.
Leah heard a hissing, sizzling sound. It could have been the electrical charges making that noise. Then a new pungently sweet odor wafted through the dining room--just as the stocky man teetered and fell facedown to the floor.
Leah stared at his corpse, and realized what she'd heard--and what she still smelled.
It was human flesh cooking.
'With wedding bells and jingle bells on their minds, a Portland, Oregon, couple, Jared McGinty and Leah Dvorak, stopped by their favorite Thai restaurant one night last December for a late dinner. They were making wedding plans...' The anchorman punctuated this lead-in with a dramatic pause. The program was
This was a rerun. The man watching the TV program in his Portland hotel room had seen this episode about Jared and Leah before--shortly after the incident had happened, six months ago, around Christmastime. Still, his eyes were riveted to the TV.
The screen-within-the screen just to the right of Sloan's shoulder bore the words:
'Jared and Leah had no idea they were about to come face-to-face with death,' Sloan continued--in an ominous tone. 'On this week's segment of
The picture on the TV screen switched to a pretty, thirty-nine-year-old, swaddled in a trench coat. Her wavy, tawny-brown hair blowing in the wind, Sydney Jordan stood under the red awning of Thai Paradise, and spoke into a handheld mike. Her breath was visible that night back in December when they'd originally filmed the segment.
'Jared McGinty and Leah Dvorak are 'regulars' here at Thai Paradise in Portland's charming Hawthorne District,' she announced.
The picture switched to Jared and Leah, sitting in front of a fireplace in twin chairs. Except for Jared's black eye, already starting to fade, neither of them showed much sign of the trauma they'd endured just three nights before. 'Well, we almost always order the same thing when we go there,' Leah said with a timid smile. 'Creatures of habit, I guess. The garlic chicken with broccoli and wide noodles is my favorite.'
'I usually order the Pad Thai,' Jared said, giving Leah a goofy grin. 'But Leah always ends up eating most of it.'
She laughed, and slapped his arm. 'Oh, I guess that's true!'
'Thai Paradise is a family business,' Sydney Jordan announced. The cozy image of Leah and Jared together dissolved into a still photo of the owners proudly posing in front of the restaurant on its opening day. 'It was started by Som and Suchin Wongpoom, who immigrated to the United States with their nephew and niece, Nuran and Sumalee, just five years ago. Som and Suchin do most of the cooking--old family recipes. Nuran and Sumalee are on the waitstaff...'
A lullaby with an Asian lilt provided the soundtrack for a brief montage of old family photos and video clips of the Wongpooms interacting with customers at birthday parties and other special occasions in the restaurant.
'It didn't take long for Portlanders like Leah and Jared to discover the wonderful food and warm atmosphere in this family-run restaurant.' The camera returned to Leah and Jared sitting together, zooming in for a close-up of Leah's hand as she caressed his arm. It was hard to miss the diamond ring that sparkled on her finger.
