"A single tree does not make a forest; a single string cannot make music.”— Chinese Idiom.

  Hangzhou, China – October 14th, – 7:00 AM

  Summoned to a meeting, Man Zhu Bai surveys the other officers seated around the conference table. At the far end, Detective Ho Ning Hui sits with his arms crossed. A seasoned officer with over thirty years on the force, Ho should have been a deputy director by now, but he has repeatedly refused promotion. He prefers to work cases alone, unburdened by politics or the responsibility of managing a team. At fifty-five, he’s divorced, has no children, and runs on coffee and sheer grit. Man Zhu Bai respects his dedication—but a part of him fears that one day, he’ll see that same worn, embittered face staring back at him in the mirror.

  Next is Officer Du Zhang Yong, the station’s Young Pioneer. Even after three years on the job, he still radiates idealism. He’s the poster boy for a friendly neighborhood cop, eager and enthusiastic, with his notepad and pencil at the ready. Man Zhu Bai remembers having that same shine when he first joined the force, but experience has dulled his passionate determination into a practical drive.

  Beside him is Officer Xin, from the previous day’s shooting incident. Man Zhu Bai didn’t know much about him. He and his brother transferred to the station a week ago. His brother is in the hospital from injuries sustained during the container raid. Not the easiest first week on the job.

  At the furthest end of the table is a stranger, a young woman in her late twenties tapping away on a computer. Her jeans and graphic tee make her look like a teenager, but there is no disguising years of disillusionment behind her bright purple glasses. Man Zhu Bai wonders if she is a new hire in the tech department.

  His curiosity about this meeting is piqued even more when the chief enters with Agent Kang. It can’t be a complaint about his interference because there wouldn’t be other people here. Did another incident occur?

  Instead of taking the front, the chief sits beside Man Zhu Bai. This isn’t a standard debriefing. Something must be going on related to the case. Kang, still standing, exchanges a few quiet words with the woman and then addresses the group.

  "I’m Agent Kang Jia Zan of the Anti-Smuggling Bureau; I’ll get straight to the point. You’ve been selected for a joint task force with the ASB," he announces. "You’ve already been vetted. If you agree to join, expect continued monitoring of your finances and personal lives. Anyone uncomfortable with that can leave now."

  Being on a task force means a lot of overtime and potentially placing a target on your back. Man Zhu Bai realizes what everyone in the room has in common: they are all bachelors. None of them have wives at home to worry about them.

  When no one gets up, Kang gives a nod to the woman in purple glasses.

  "This is Technical Consultant Fan Wei Liang—Penny." She stands briefly, giving a half-bow. “She will be in charge of all electronic security as well as logistics.”

  “I’ll be performing sweeps of all your devices, so delete anything you don’t want me to see,” Penny says with a wink at Officer Du. Man Zhu Bai watches the young man’s face blush from the teasing. No one reaches for their phones. The brief moment of levity disappears as Kang gets down to business.

  "This task force’s goal is to uncover the extent of the criminal organization known as Shi Zhi and find evidence against its leader or, in triad terms, the Dragon Head.”

  A folder lands in front of Man Zhu Bai. On the screen at the head of the table, a photo of Wu Bambang appears.

  "Wu was a branch manager or a straw sandal for Shi Zi Trading, suspected of brokering arms deals. Shi Zi operates like a conglomerate—each division functions independently. Only those at the top know the full scope of their network."

  That means the men they arrested are low-level foot soldiers, Man Zhu Bai realizes, taking them down barely made a dent.

  "Shi Zi had already planned to eliminate Wu. The bullet recovered from him wasn’t a police issue. We suspect the shooter was Li Jing Sheng."

  A grainy surveillance photo replaces Wu’s. Li’s face is partially obscured.

  "He disappeared before officers arrived and is most likely the vanguard, the main enforcer.”

  Detective Ho speaks first. "Is Wu talking?"

  Kang shakes his head. "He’s more afraid of them than of us."

  "Do we know who the leader is?” Officer Du asks.

  Kang clicks to the next image, Ryan Anderson.

  "An American witness places our person of interest, Ryan Anderson, at the cargo yard that night," Kang says.

  Detective Ho folds his arms. "That’s thin evidence, and it says here he owns an import and export consulting company. He could be there for legitimate reasons. Besides, how would a Westerner operate so smoothly here?"

  Kang pulls up a document. "He isn’t a typical American. His grandfather is industrial tycoon Wan Chong Jin, who was suspected of having ties to the Jade Gang that operated in the 70s, they later pledged loyalty to the Eight Dragons triad."

  "Shit," Ho exhales sharply. “Organized crime is not our jurisdiction. Why are we here?"

  "Because Shi Zi has someone feeding them intel on inspections and checkpoints," Kang answers. "They maintain just enough infractions to avoid being suspiciously clean, but we believe they have informants inside the system."

  Man Zhu Bai nods, "There’s more chance he has infiltrated the higher ranks but didn’t waste his time on lowly peons like us."

  Kang nods and continues. "Anderson’s travel pattern is telling. He’s been all over—Tirana, Caracas, Lagos. But he spends most of his time in Boston and Hangzhou, so most likely, these two places are where Shi Zi is most entrenched and where he is most likely to make a mistake.”

  And that’s where they come in, Man Zhu Bai thinks to himself. Shi Zhi is aware that the ASB is investigating, but there is no way they will anticipate such a big case being handed off to a small local station. Kang continues going through the details of the investigation until Penny interrupts.

  "The search and seizure warrants for Wu’s properties came through.” She announces.

  Kang turns off the display, “Any questions?”

  ***

  Anna watches Hailee make breakfast. All the tension from the day before is gone, tucked away to be resolved another day. Without saying anything, they’ve come to a mutual agreement to enjoy the time they have left.

  Hailee brought ice cream and chips home with her yesterday. They spent the night giving play-by-plays of their day and watching ‘Dirty Dancing’ on DVD. Anna was surprised when Hailee told her what happened at the station.

  She must have looked like such a ninny, crying her eyes out over nothing. She is sick of feeling scared all the time and sobbing at the drop of the hat. People survive worse, Anna thinks, not giving herself an ounce of the compassion she shows her patients.

  After her waterworks stopped, Kang had given her a handkerchief to dry her eyes. She didn’t know men still carried those around.

  “Where is my coffee?” Hailee asks, interrupting Anna’s one-hundredth replay of yesterday's embarrassment.

  “Umm,” Anna’s expression is clueless.

  After Kang and Man Zhu Bai left, she cleaned up the apartment, but she didn’t remember where everything went. She knows Hailee is particular about where she puts things and hopes this doesn’t ruin their fragile truce. Anna stands to help with the search.

  “Do you want to stay in and watch a movie?” Hailee asks as she finds the canister behind some canned fruit in the back of the cabinet.

  Anna rejects the idea. It’s not only her vacation but Hailee’s, too. She probably doesn’t want to waste it in her apartment.

  “Let’s go out,” Anna suggests, “It’s my first real vacation. I should make the most of it”

  Hailee hesitates for a minute before she agrees.

  They hop a bus to Ancient Street to explore the shops. Hailee orders Anna a couple of baozi, the white steamed buns Anna had seen before, one with pork filling and the other with red bean paste. Anna isn’t expecting the buns to be so fluffy and sweet. The taste is different, but not bad.

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  The next stop is a tea shop. A man as ancient as the street itself is behind the counter. Hailee must go there often because he greets them with a warm smile. Hailee points at Anna and says something to him.

  Anna watches as the old man pulls down several unlabeled canisters from the shelf. He uses a mortar and pestle to grind several different herbs. She recognizes the scent of ginger, cinnamon, and cloves, but there are others she can’t identify.

  With motions as precise as any surgeon, he slices bark and roots. He mixes everything into a clay bowl with tea leaves. Once he is satisfied with his blend, he pours it into a paper envelope and hands it to Anna.

  “It’s to help with the bruises and sore muscles,” Hailee tells her. “Drink two cups in the morning.”

  “How much?” Anna asks, she’ll add it to the running tab of what she owes her sister.

  “He says it’s on the house,” Hailee explains.

  Anna turns to the old man and, with as much sincerity as she can imbue into her words, thanks him. He seems to understand and waves them out of his store with a few more words that put an odd look on Hailee’s face.

  “What did he say?” Anna asks, curious.

  “He said we are old souls,” Hailee explains, “and our red thread of fate is strong.”

  “What is that,” Anna asks even more interested.

  “It’s a belief that people who are fated to meet are tied together with a red string,” Hailee tells her as they walk along the street. The moon has started to shine through the darkening sky. “It’s mostly thought to connect lovers, but some believe they can also bring together family, friends, and even enemies.”

  Anna thinks about it for a moment; she likes the idea that she and Hailee were meant to be sisters, that maybe they had been friends in a previous lifetime as well. It wasn’t in line with their strictly catholic upbringing, but it felt right to her.

  A crowd is gathered at one end of the street, mostly families with children, as a street performer enacts a play with shadow puppets. Anna stops and watches the paper cut-outs dance along the white screen.

  The faces of Cao Niue Ju, Chai Lai Luan, and the other young women in the container rush from the back of her mind to the front. She wonders what kind of fate brought them together.

  She wrestles with an illogical sense of guilt for not doing more. She wishes she could see them. She wants to see for herself that they are safe and sound.

  ***

  Blue lights give a hip and modern vibe to the upscale lounge where Ryan entertains a potential business partner. The liquor served at the marble bar is top shelf and overpriced, perfect for showing off a wealthy man’s disregard for money.

  The bartender places two low-ball drinks in front of Ryan and his guest, Mr. James Lau, a wealthy businessman who owns a bulk of the warehouses in Hangzhou. It’s essential for Ryan to secure a new storage unit near the port but away from the heat from the police.

  Mr. Lau takes a sip, “Mmm, smooth.”

  “I noticed you don’t care for straight bourbon, this has a bit of amaretto and lime to give it a sweeter taste,” Ryan replies.

  Mr. Lau’s ego is almost as big as his stomach, Ryan muses. He expects people to fawn over him and takes it as his due- arrogant bastard. The feeling of security that comes from being on top of the pedestal is an illusion. There is always someone waiting to knock you down.

  “The contract for the warehouse,” Ryan continues, “you increased the price by three percent and shortened the lease by a year.” Ryan sips his drink. He is careful to keep his tone neutral; he doesn’t want to let his annoyance show.

  “Another company offered me a higher price, but I didn’t want to renege on our agreement, but I feel I shouldn’t lose out either.” Mr. Lau says over the rim of his glass. “Don’t you agree?”

  Ryan doesn’t point out that changing the terms is, by definition, reneging; he doesn’t have time to educate a puffed-up buffoon. His fortune was built on luck and his wife’s family connections. He was soon going to be out of both.

  “Speaking of changing terms, I hear your wife is no longer satisfied with your divorce agreement.”

  Mr. Lau chokes on his whiskey and infuriation. “What does it have to do with business?”

  Ryan smiles reassuringly, “Nothing, I’m only pointing out we both are men who prefer sticking to original terms.”

  “I prefer keeping my personal life separate from business.” Mr. Lau says, his eyes narrowing on Ryan.

  “I’m surprised,” Ryan says, going for the kill, “after all, you had no problem indulging in certain proclivities with potential clients.”

  Mr. Lau’s eyes widen, but he pretends he doesn’t know what Ryan is talking about.

  Ryan opens his phone and texts Mr. Lau a series of photos. “That desk was a birthday present from Mrs. Lau, wasn’t it?” Ryan tssks.

  Mr. Lau’s face goes white, “How did you get these?”

  “You didn’t think she wanted you for your looks,” Ryan asks, signaling the bartender. “Another Hangman’s Noose for my friend, please.”

  Then he turns to Mr. Lau, “Send me the revised contract, and I won’t send your wife’s attorney the photos.” Mr. Lau looks defeated.

  Now that he has experienced the whip, Ryan thinks it’s time to dangle the carrot. A good businessman knows the best outcome of negotiations is a win-win, it’s better to have more allies than enemies.

  “If you take off an additional 1%,” Ryan continues, “I’ll send Bridget to you.”

  Mr. Lau looks back at the tall blonde woman wearing a set of bunny ears and a tail on top of him in the photos.

  “To keep,” Mr. Lau says, his interest peeked.

  “She’s yours to do with whatever you want,” Ryan confirms.

  Mr. Lau holds up his glass to Ryan, “Deal.”

  Boston, MA USA – October 14th, – 10:00 AM

  For the first time that day, Lt. O’Shea takes a seat at his desk with his fourth cup of coffee in a mug that says— I can’t fix stupid, but I can arrest it. He just sat through a briefing with a bunch of bureaucrats.

  Budget cuts coinciding with a new push from the higher-ups to improve the force's public image has made an already stressful job worse. Basically, they want them to do twice the work, reduce overtime, and smile for the camera.

  He’s got dead bodies in the morgue, and they’re worried about his officers offending criminals when making arrests.

  He picks up the pile of messages on his desk. Before he can read them, there is a knock on the door, and Sgt. Erickson comes in without waiting for a response.

  “We pinpointed the area Jane Doe came from,” Erickson says.

  Lt. O’Shea puts down his mug. “Took them long enough.”

  “The Coast Guard says that there are boats still in the area.”

  Lt. O’Shea grabs his coat and hurries out of the office; the weariness from the morning is replaced by a focused drive.

  Messages from Kang are left unread on the desk.

  ***

  Hangzhou, China – October 18th, – 10:30 AM

  The water is still cold, Anna takes her finger out from under the tap and tries to shake some warmth back into it. So far, her plans to surprise Hailee with a nice dinner tonight are not going well.

  Nothing seems to go right when she is left on her own, the last few days with her sister had gone smoothly. She and Hailee hit up tourist destinations, did some tours, and shopped, no one was kidnapped, shot at, or even mugged.

  Hailee went back to work, leaving Anna alone in the apartment, and now there is something wrong with the plumbing. Anna tests the water again, hoping the hot will kick in, but it feels even colder. Anna knocks on the frozen chicken. It’s a brick, and there is no way it will defrost fast enough just by leaving it on the counter.

  If she could sleep, she would call it quits for the day and go back to bed, but staring at the ceiling allowed too many unwanted memories to invade her mind. She manages to catch a few minutes here and there, but she always wakes up with her heart beating out of her chest. Once, on a tour bus, she woke up screaming, the other passengers looked at her strangely, but seeing the sadness in Hailee’s expression was worse.

  As much as she is enjoying her time with her sister, she can’t wait to go home. Once she is back in her own bed, she will surely be able to put everything that happened behind her and get back to her life—she hopes.

  She is about to put the chicken back in the freezer when inspiration strikes: the shower! Before she can implement her idea, the doorbell rings. Anna tosses the chicken on the counter. Moves the chair, blocking the door, bad guys probably wouldn’t bother announcing their arrival. She checks the peephole.

  Anna considers pretending she isn’t home when she gets a glimpse of Kang’s profile; however, she decides against it, not wanting a repeat of last time. Plus, Hailee isn’t here to translate, so they won't have much to say to each other.

  Anna opens the door; it's better to get it done and over with.

  “Hailee isn’t here. Why don’t you come back later?” Anna says in place of a greeting.

  Taking a step into the apartment, Kang checks his watch, he looks her up and down, and Anna can sense his disapproval. She looks down at her pajamas. She is covered from head to toe, wearing a pair of pink polka dot bottoms and a long-sleeve coordinating pink top. Anna isn’t a fan of the super girly look either, but beggars can’t be choosers.

  “Chuān yī.” He says, pointing at her clothes.

  Anna decides to play dumb; maybe he’ll leave. Being in the same room with him reminds her of how helpless she is. From the moment she opened the door, even before then, she was at his mercy. There is nothing she can do to stop him physically, and a lock can’t keep him out; he’s already proven that.

  She makes a shooing gesture toward the door. She’ll have to rely upon the thin protection of social principles to get rid of him. He takes another step inside.

  “Chuān yī,” Kang repeats, this time, he tugs gently on her sleeve and points to his watch.

  He must be in a rush, Anna thinks.

  If she can draw this charades game out, he’ll have to go. She places her hands together beside her head, mimics sleeping, and points to the door. Apparently, he is done playing because he takes her hand and leads her through the apartment.

  Anna panics as they near the bedroom. She shouldn’t have pushed his buttons; she struggles against his grip. He lets go immediately, and Anna races into the bedroom and locks the door.

  ***

  When Kang hears the click of the lock, he knows they are not going to make it on time. They’ll have to go to the next opening later in the day. He checks the apartment to make sure all the locks are still secure on the windows. He spots the frozen chicken sitting on the counter. She must have been planning to defrost it for dinner.

  He opens the cabinet under the sink and turns on the heater. He finds a bowl, fills it with warm water, and places the chicken inside. He didn’t need her to find any more excuses to delay.

  ***

  Anna crouches by the door, listening to the noises on the other side. She hears the faucet, and then the TV turns on. He isn’t leaving. He also isn’t trying to get into the room.

  Braver now that it doesn’t look like he intends to do anything, Anna’s panic settles. She paces around the room for a minute, picks a book from a small pile on Hailee’s nightstand, and settles on the bed. Let’s see who can hold out the longest.

  The clock on the nightstand reads 12:30 when Anna wakes up. Her head is groggy from sleeping too deeply during the day. She can’t believe she slept for a full two hours. It’s the most consecutive sleep she has had since she got off the plane.

  She wishes she could close her eyes again, but a more urgent need makes itself known. She opens the bedroom door but quickly closes it again when she sees Kang sitting on the living room couch, talking on the phone, hunched over his computer.

  Anna can’t believe he’s still here. She debates staying in the room, but her full bladder settles the debate for her. She quickly tosses on a pair of jeans and a sweater and races to the bathroom.

  When Anna comes out of the bathroom, with her hair and teeth brushed, he is packed up and ready.

  “Wǒmen zǒu ba.” He says. Anna does a double take – did he just call her “woman”?

  ***

  “Let’s go,” Kang repeats himself when she stands there with a funny look on her face. Before they go outside, he takes her hand to stop her from exiting the building first. He does a sweep of the street, then leads her straight to his black SUV parked on the street.

  He keeps his body close and in between her and the most exposed areas. This time, she doesn’t pull away. He lets go of her hand to open the passenger door and makes sure she is tucked safely inside.

  He does another look around the area before pulling into the street. No one seems to be following them. He doesn’t expect any trouble, but that doesn’t mean he can let his guard down.