“About 3 million Hong Kong dollars,” she replied. Apparently she made good money working as a hostess.
They walked through an underground parking area to a lift. Chinese characters were painted above the doors, which Bond translated as: “Come and go in peace.” They got into the lift and they stood there silently as they travelled to the eighteenth floor. Bond noted that she was apprehensive, a bit short of breath. The girl was truly beautiful, though, and if his better judgement told him he should mind his own business, that damnable chivalrous trait that had got him into trouble many times in the past prevailed.
Once they were on the eighteenth floor, Sunni moved to a door protected by a large, locked, metal sliding gate. She stood staring at it in fear. The lock mechanism had been scratched and obviously tampered with. She looked up at Bond and his eyes told her to be quiet. He nodded to go ahead, so she used her key and opened the door. Bond drew his Walther PPK and preceded her into the flat.
It was a modest place, but tastefully decorated. The living room contained a sectional sofa, coffee table, a stereo, and a few other pieces of furniture. A framed plaque on the table displayed a Chinese character meaning “Tolerance.” There was a crucifix on the wall, indicating that Sunni was not Buddhist, but one of the minority Chinese Catholics. A tiny kitchen was adjacent to the living room.
It was far too quiet. “Mother?” Sunni called out in Cantonese. She moved along a small hallway which led to the two little bedrooms and a bathroom.
An elderly woman was lying on the bed in one of the bedrooms, seemingly asleep. Sunni approached and called to her again. The woman didn’t move. Sunni touched her and gasped. She recoiled and turned away. Bond knew immediately what was wrong. He felt the woman’s forehead and grasped her wrist in search of a pulse. She was cold and lifeless.
“I’m sorry, Sunni,” he said.
Sunni was sobbing, her back to Bond. “She … she had a bad heart,” she managed to say.
Bond wondered if something had happened that might have frightened the woman. There was also the possibility that she had simply died in her sleep. As he examined her further, he realized that rigor mortis had set in, indicating that she had been dead for some hours.
It was an awkward moment and he wasn’t sure how to comfort her. Bond put away his gun and reached out to her shoulders. She shrugged him off and said, “Please don’t touch me.” She turned to him, her eyes full of tears. “It’s all your fault! They came here and scared her to death!” She pushed away from him and went into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
Bond spoke to her through the door. “Sunni, we don’t know that for sure,” he said gently. “She’s been dead several hours. Her body is already stiff. When did you leave the flat today?”
“Around noon,” she sniffed.
He nodded and said, “She’s been dead more than two or three hours. Trust me.” He opened the door slowly. She stood looking out of her window. Her bedroom was as small as her mother’s. Space was at a premium in Hong Kong.
Though tiny, the room was decidedly feminine. Bond noticed a small round charcoal burner plugged into the wall next to her bed. A red light was burning brightly on top of it. Sunni turned, wiping away her tears and saw him looking at the contraption.
She managed a short laugh. “That’s a little stove my mother gave me. It’s a Chinese tradition … the red light means ‘fire,’ and it’s supposed to bring me marriage … a husband. My mother was quite concerned that I’m nearly thirty and wasn’t married.” She started to cry again.
Bond held his arms out to her, and this time she allowed him to hold her. She sobbed quietly against his shoulder.
Then he heard a creaking noise. Damn! He hadn’t closed and locked the front door! How could he have been so careless? He drew his gun. “Stay here,” he commanded, then moved back into the living room.
As he entered the room, the front door slid open, revealing two young Chinese thugs in dark clothes. They were brandishing long, crude machetes. It all happened very quickly. The men rushed Bond and he shot them. They were both hit in the chest, but one of the men struck 007 hard on the left arm with his chopper. Bond yelped in pain but managed to fire at the man a second time at point blank range.
He became aware that Sunni was screaming. He rushed to her and held his hand over her mouth. “Shhhhh, it’s all right now,” he said, as calmly as he could. A few seconds passed and she started to calm down, but then she noticed Bond’s shoulder. He was bleeding profusely through his jacket. He had a huge gash across his upper arm. He needed medical attention immediately.
“Lock the door, Sunni, quickly,” he said sternly to jolt her out of her panic. She snapped out of it and ran to the door. Bond went into the bathroom and removed his jacket, shoulder holster, and shirt.
The cut was three inches long and half an inch deep. Luckily, the muscle had not been severed, but blood was pouring from the wound. He quickly removed his right shoe and pulled the prying tool from under the tongue. He snapped off the heel and tipped the contents into the sink.
“Sunni, I need your help,” Bond called. She hesitated at the door to the bathroom, not wanting to look. “Please,” he said, “I need you to apply this antiseptic to the cut.” He took the bottle and held it out in the palm of his right hand.
She looked at him. The same thought passed through both of their heads.
“Sunni,” Bond said, “you’re right. I suppose this is all my fault. I’m sorry.”
“I should let you die, you know,” she said. “I should grab a knife and cut you myself. I would regain face with them. It would cancel the death warrant on me.”
“You don’t really believe they can help you, Sunni? They’re using you. You’re a commodity.”
“I am a Blue Lantern.”
“What is that?”
“I’ve been accepted as a member but have not been formally initiated yet.”
“Then you’re not a member.”
Sunni finally reached for the bottle of antiseptic and opened it. “You have to wash the wound first.” Bond nodded. He moved to the shower and turned on the hot water. As he leaned into it, the blood swirled with the water down the drain. Sunni took a large white towel from a rack, wrapped it around Bond’s arm, and held it tightly.
“According to the law, I am a member,” she continued. “I could be arrested and jailed for simply being a Blue Lantern.”
“I wouldn’t have thought they would allow women in Triads?”
“It was once all-male, but in the last few years they’ve begun to admit women. Most of them stay Blue Lanterns and are never initiated.”
“Then that should tell you what they think of you,” Bond said. “Leave them.”
She removed the towel and poured antiseptic on to the wound, which was still bleeding badly. Bond winced at the sting.
“Don’t you see? I can’t do anything! If I run, they’ll eventually find me and kill me, or I’ll be arrested and go to jail. My only way out of this is to kill you. Believe me, there are some other girls you could have met tonight who would have cut your hands off if you’d spoken to them about Triads.”
“You’re not going to try and kill me, are you, Sunni?”
She didn’t answer. “You need stitches.”
“Look,” he said, “you need help, and I can help you. Come with me to a safe house. I can get medical treatment, and they won’t find you there. I need to make a phone call then we could be on our way in minutes.”
She wrapped some gauze around his arm very tightly, then covered it with the towel again. “There, that should hold you for a while. It’s a good thing you had all that stuff in your shoe.”
Bond stood up and put on his shirt. He slipped the shoulder holster back on. Extending or raising his left arm hurt like hell. He took two of the acetaminophen tablets and one antibiotic, swallowing them with water from the sink in his cupped right hand. He replaced the contents of the shoe and put it back on. Finally, he managed to put the bloody jacket back on, then walked into the living room and reached for the phone near the kitchen.
“I’m making that call. You can come with me or you can stay behind,” he said. “If you’re coming, you’d better pack a bag. You probably won’t be coming back here.”
