Amy was 30 minutes early. She was perched up on the third-story roof of her favorite coffee shop and scanned the scene in front of her. It was pitch black in sight and sound. Nothing was moving except for the stray cat walking along the sloped roof to her right. Despite the blackness of the night, the grayness of the scene stood out to her. The Beijing hutongs could not be grayer, she thought- the bricks, roofs, pavement, all gray. It's a reflection of their personality, she thought. It's a reflection of the decades of colorless lives they all lived.
Dressed in black from head to toe, Amy closed her eyes and listened. Something was off. She could sense it. It was still quiet, but something didn't feel right to her. Maybe it was her own nervousness in anticipation of the meeting. She's done this hundreds of times, but this time was different. This was the one time she had something to prove. She couldn't afford for anything to go wrong. She pulled up her neck warmer over her mouth and waited.
It was the coldest night Beijing would get this winter. Twenty degrees below zero was a hell reserved only for those who did what she did. It was also a paradise for those who had no where else to go. A paradise for those who were stuck with the same ways of living. For those who don't know what different feels like.
It was completely quiet. She could hear her own heartbeat, which after years of training could reach as low as 50 beats per minute. A normal person in this situation, knowing the stakes involved, would be racing at 120 bpm. She quickly thanked her Buddha for the breathing technique's lesser known, but equally important ability to keep her looking 20 years younger.
Amy had two reasons for showing up to every meeting 30 minutes early. She could observe the setting and look for anything out of place. She could also reflect on her next moves, the ones she's already planned out five or six moves ahead of time. What can happen? What could go wrong? How could it go right? Her meditations gave her the mental skill to juggle multiple decisions at once. A normal person can't even decide what they will have for lunch, but Amy can save a thousand lives, earn a million dollars, and have a handful of governments groveling at her feet in the span of 24 hours.
It was still quiet. The stray cat was out of sight. Uneasiness circulated through the freezing wind. Amy couldn't take it anymore. She stepped back from the ledge of the roof and walked towards the door. She deftly picked the lock, disabled the alarm system, headed downstairs to the kitchen and made herself a macchiato.
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“We are done meeting like this.” Amy was annoyed with Sun's cheerfulness when he first arrived. “We may be compromised.”
“How could that hap-” Sun's cheery attitude was suddenly obliterated into pieces.
“I will drop all new packages in a designated spot on the roof. If there's a signal on the telephone pole up the alley, that means there is a new package. If there is not a signal, there will be nothing.”
Sun raised his right eyebrow and glanced at her questioningly. He didn't say anything. He didn't want to give anything away.
“When you receive a new package, place the money in a different spot in Baochao alley. I'll take you there in a minute.”
“Amy, if you think you're in any danger, we can help you. We always have.”
Amy glared at him. “These are necessary precautions against complacency. I will not risk my life- my career- over this.” Amy thought about the one time complacency killed her first business. Simpler times. But the lesson remained with her all these years. She vowed it would never happen again.
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“If that's what you want. OK.”
Amy thought about killing him right there. The smug face. The government tie. No one would know. A quick strangulation with the tie would have done the trick. His death would solve a lot of her problems. But she still needed him.
“That one's for me?” She pointed to the black envelope in his left hand. His right hand held a white envelope she spent weeks trying to get.
“Yes ma'am. I think you'll be quite happy with its contents.”
Amy snatched the envelope from him and peeked inside. It was exactly as she expected.
“Let's go.” Amy turned around and headed straight for Baochao Alley. She didn't bother looking back to check if Sun was following. She thought about the coffee. Yes, she thought. A poisoned cup of coffee would have been perfect.
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“She knows. I don't know how, but she knows.” Sun was tense.
“How the hell does she know?” Yao was fuming.
“I told you, I don't know. She wants to change things up. She's using dead drops and signals instead of in-person meets.”
“What the hell has gotten into her? Did you give her the package?”
“Of course. Clean handover. No surprises.”
“Then what the hell is she thinking? That we have someone in the shadows ready to take her out if she fails to deliver?”
“No idea. But we need to take action now.”
“Yes. No. Why? We need her. She always pulls through.”
“Yes. But what will come next? She might completely cut us off once she realizes the full truth. We can't afford that.”
“Right, right. Should I call The Fixer?”
“Call him up just in case. We will need him eventually.”
Yao pulled out his phone and scrolled down to F. Or was it T? He found him, tapped twice, and the phone started ringing. Sun fidgeted nervously on the couch. He got up and left Yao's nightclub before The Fixer picked up.
Back at his apartment, Sun thought about Amy. Were the rumors true? She was an extraordinarily careful woman, no doubt. She was notoriously wealthy, but he figured some of it had to be from an inheritance. But the killings? Rumors ran wild three years ago about a lithe woman dressed in all-black single-handedly taking out a team of vicious mobsters because she was scammed out of a few thousand dollars. And of a mad-woman murdering a Thai politician because he failed to follow through on a small promise. Would she go on another psychotic murdering craze when she finds out we've been hiding the truth about her this whole time?
Sun leaned back in his leather chair and closed his eyes. He thought about the measures he put in place to safeguard against this kind of scenario. The Fixer was just a temporary solution. But Sun had a permanent plan ready. It was foolproof. Assassin-proof. Amy may be a global business magnate, admired philanthropist, and international spy, but she didn't stand a chance against the best mind in China. He admired his own genius then drifted into a deep sleep.
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It was just about 3am when Amy opened the door to her apartment. She immediately smelled the paint fumes from her neighbor redecorating next door. Maybe that's what was messing with her head earlier, she thought. Maybe it was the old guy she passed by on her way to the meet. What was he doing outside so late at night?
She moved to the kitchen as she thought about what people said about her. Global visionary. Superstar. That she has the golden touch for any business she dips her hand in. But she was really just a criminal. An international criminal mastermind, yes. But a criminal, nonetheless. And she loved it. She didn't care what she was. As long as it got her what she wanted, she absolutely loved it.
She crashed on the couch and smiled as she contemplated the sequence of events she likely set in motion tonight. Sun, Kevin, John- three men, all wrapped around her finger. It was truly a beautiful moment when the mind is put to proper use. Designing and directing the future as she sees fit. Leaving nothing to chance. That was what separated men from beasts. Yet men rarely put this power to use. Especially Sun. That dunce couldn't do anything right.
Sometimes she liked to ponder her own genius by imagining she was walking through the Louvre, admiring paintings down a long hallway. A string of Monet's first, then a few Rembrandt's, and finally the Mona Lisa. This was what it was like to walk through Amy's mind, and to view the colorful hues of her carefully drawn plans.